Ripple Effect
by Tori of Lorien
Summary: He was warned to never go to the cursed hill.  But when Thranduil disobeys his father's orders to see if the stories are true, a single event from Oropher's past threatens the life of his young son.  Complete!
1. Chapter 1

**Ripple Effect**

**Disclaimer**: Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Everyone you do not recognize belong to me.

**Summary**: He was warned to never go to the cursed hill. But when Thranduil disobeys his father's orders to see if the stories are true, a single event from Oropher's past threatens the life of his young son.

**Rating**: T

**Genre**: Drama/Family

**Characters**: Thranduil and Oropher, features OCs

**Warnings**: Violence, mild creative license with geography

**Author's Note**: Thranduil has always been one of my favorite Tolkien characters, and since there aren't many of them out there, I thought I'd put out a little Thranduil story of my own. What was this proud king like as a child? What was his relationship with Oropher? What was Oropher like as a father? These are all things I wanted to explore and hopefully present in an enjoyable manner. Thranduil is about the equivalent of a twelve-year-old here. And for those who have read my oneshot "A Balrog in the Closet" will probably recognize the character Aearion. Many, many thanks to **doreenthatshot **for her help with figuring out the finer points of this storyas well as **Gwedhiel0117** for her help with placing Greenwood in the First Age as realistically as possible. Both of you guys are amazing, and I hope you both enjoy the story, as I hope the rest of you do too. Read, review, just no flames please! Enjoy!

Elvish:

_hír-nín_- my lord  
><em>aran-nín<em>- my king  
><em>daro<em>- stop/halt  
><em>Amon Sereg<em>- "Blood Hill"

_ripple effect (noun)- the continuing and spreading results of an event or action_

_Chapter 1_

All was still in the vast study save the occasional whisper of a faded page as it was turned or the quiet _clink_ the wine glass made as it was set back on the paper-filled desk. It was a peace Oropher relished. As king of Greenwood the Great, there were not many moments in the day where he could spend in solitude, often occupied dealing with matters within his realm or burdened down by the load of paperwork that seemed to constantly be in need of being seen to that he would sometimes delay until it was absolutely necessary. Paperwork had never been his strongest point.

Though it was not only official matters that demanded his attention.

A slight smile graced Oropher's fair but often stern features as he turned another page in the book he had been attempting to get through but had been unable to due to frequent interruptions. If it was not paperwork, then it was his young son who captured his time. Thranduil had been an adventurous spirit since he had been old enough to walk, but it was something that had grown more prevalent since his mother had left Greenwood after her mother had sailed to Valinor out of grief when her husband gave his life to save his from a traitorous Elf in his guard. Oropher could not refuse his wife's request since he often felt her unhappiness, though his own heart had been heavily burdened by her leaving and no word of her potential return, and Thranduil appeared to be acting out. There was not a day that went by, it seemed, where some complaint was brought to him of the youthful prince sticking his nose where it didn't belong or causing some sort of trouble around the palace. The absence of his mother was difficult for him to handle, and he only hoped it was something Thranduil would grow out of once they both came to accept it.

Another page in the thick book was turned. Oropher's smile broadened as he took a small sip of the cool, red wine, leaning back in the cushioned chair as he continued reading. He could not recall a time when he had managed to get through so many pages of his treasured book, a feat he was rather impressed with. A sense of tranquility smoothed out the stressed creases in his handsome face as he continued to scan the dark print, the long years of battle reflected in his green eyes the only true indicator of how long he had walked the earth. He brushed a strand of light blond hair behind his ear that had spilled onto the page he was currently reading which had come loose from the ponytail that was keeping the long tresses neatly back, reaching out for the glass again.

Then, his hand paused as Oropher glanced up from the faded pages, his eyes moving over the stone walls of the room until they came to the wooden door across from him. They narrowed slightly. He thought he heard hurried footsteps drawing nearer, and at the late hour, he knew it could not be anything good. For a brief moment, he wondered what Thranduil was up to.

Sure enough, the door of the study soon slammed open. Oropher winced slightly, inwardly groaning as he shut the book in defeat and rested his face in his hand. Whoever felt the need to interrupt him could have at least had the courtesy to knock first instead of barging in. But as he looked through his ringed fingers at the unexpected guests, he was surprised to see three small forms looking back at him through wide, fearful eyes as a taller figure entered the room.

"My deepest apologies, _hír-nín_," Aearion, his closest advisor, said, looking down on the Elflings between them with a disapproving eye. "I tried to stop these children. But they would not listen-!"

"We had to see the king!" the boy who was standing a bit closer to the desk than his two companions protested while the other two, a boy and girl with similar features, gazed upon Oropher almost pleadingly. "It cannot wait!"

"Whatever it is you wish to speak with him about _can _wait until the morrow," Aearion told them sternly, grabbing a hold of the three Elflings. "There is no reason to disturb the king at this late hour."

"But-!"

Oropher sighed as he lowered his hand, watching as his advisor struggled to pull the children from his study. He knew them well since they were friends of Thranduil and often caused just as much trouble as he did. Calanon, the boy who had spoken, was the son of the captain in Greenwood's army while siblings Erynion and Helinniel were the children of one of the palace's healers.

But something about their late-night intrusion without the presence of his son bothered him.

"_Aran-nín_!"

The higher voice of Helinniel brought him out of his thoughts, and Oropher rose to his feet. "_Daro_," he commanded sharply, causing the advisor and children to stop their struggling as they made their way toward the door. "Aearion, let them come."

Aearion looked startled by the sudden order, remembering the previous one he had been given to let no one disturb his king that night. "But, _hír-nín_..."

"I _said_ let them come," Oropher repeated sternly, his tone and the flicker in his eye leaving no room for argument.

Sighing, Aearion released the three troublemaking Elflings, who immediately rushed toward the desk. Oropher raised a ringed hand and gestured to the couch that was set to the side of him, and Calanon, Erynion, and Helinniel immediately took their places on it while the king lowered himself back into his cushioned chair. He rested his arms on the desk as he studied the children carefully.

"What is it you wish to speak with me about at this hour that is so important?"

The three Elflings exchanged fearful looks, and it was clear they had not thought this far ahead. Aearion crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway, narrowing his light eyes at them. Finally, it was Calanon who met Oropher's intense gaze.

"'Tis... 'tis Thranduil, _aran-nín_," he answered nervously.

Oropher felt his heart sink at the quiet statement. By the tone of the Elfling's voice, he could tell his initial suspicion had been correct. His paternal instincts flared, filling him with a sense of dread. Something was wrong with his son.

"Calanon. Tell me everything."

* * *

><p>The Elfling sat curled up against the hard, stone wall behind him, his wide, blue eyes gazing around at the darkness fearfully. From his inspection of the cave he was being held in, it was empty save a few pairs of old, rusted chains in the back.<p>

He wished he had never suggested they come to this place. They should never have come here. His father would be furious.

This thought brought a thin line of tears to Thranduil's eyes, but he immediately wiped them away with his sleeve, refusing to let them fall. He had heard too many stories from his father and a few of the more seasoned warriors in their forces that emotion in times such as these would show weakness to your enemy, and that was something he would not allow himself to do. He was the prince of Greenwood. He would be strong.

However, there was nothing more he wanted to do than escape this dreadful place. The cave had been relatively quiet since his captors had chased after his friends, but he dared not venture out from where he had been left in event of their return. Thranduil knew they would likely come back soon either empty handed or with his friends. He desperately hoped it would not prove to be the latter since he did not want them to be with him in this horrid situation. It was his ill idea, he would handle the consequences.

But how could he if he did not know who, or what, his captors were? Thranduil pulled his knees a bit closer to his chest. According to the stories, spirits of soldiers who had died in this cave were said to still linger due to the violent bloodshed that had taken place. However, how could spirits have done this to him? How could spirits have caught him by surprise with their footsteps? How could they have physically restrained him? He may have had no idea what could have been harbored so near Greenwood, but what he could say for certain was they were not spirits.

Then, Thranduil quietly gasped and wrapped his arms tightly around his legs when he heard loud footsteps drawing nearer. From what he could discern, the sound belonged to his four captors. He could tell they were somewhat short as they stopped before him, but even with his sharper eyesight, the heavy blackness of the cave as well as the night outside made it difficult for him to clearly see their faces.

But with the slight moonlight filtering into the cave behind them, they could apparently see him a bit better, which unnerved the young Elf.

"Look what we caught," a gruff male voice said as one of the four stepped forward. Thranduil closed his eyes and turned his face away when he reached toward him, flinching slightly when the hand grabbed him roughly beneath the chin and jerked his head forward. The prince bit down on his lip, refusing to let the slight whimper escape. Then, he opened his eyes in surprise when the simple silver circlet that adorned his fair hair was pulled viciously from his head.

All four of his captors laughed.

"It appears our patience has paid off. Looks like we have us a royal one," the first voice continued thoughtfully before a sudden loud _clang_ filled the cave as the circlet hit the rock floor. Thranduil's eyes widened when one of the four brought what appeared to be an axe down on it, cleaving it in two uneven halves.

"You must be Oropher's wretch."

The statement both infuriated Thranduil and sent a chill down his spine. His captors knew his father. He realized his situation had just grown much more dire.

"How much do you suppose we'd get for him?" a second voice, also male, asked.

"I suppose a lot," the first voice answered, taking on a mocking tone as he continued. "The king would want no harm to befall his precious son."

Thranduil unconsciously shivered as the four men laughed. But he did not outwardly show the fear he felt as he rested his blue eyes on them steadily, nearly unblinking as their laughter slowly trailed off.

"Just what are _you_ staring at, wretch?"

The prince gasped quietly when one of the four suddenly stepped forward, catching a slight motion as his arm was raised above his head with, he assumed, the intent to strike him. Thranduil shrunk back as far as he could against the rock wall, covering his face protectively.

"No!"

Thranduil cautiously lowered his hands, watching as one of the others grabbed his raised arm to stop him from striking him. "No," the first voice repeated, a bit more calmly this time. "Not yet. I want him alive and well for the king to find." The man who had nearly struck him lowered his arm, albeit reluctantly.

Then, Thranduil tensed when who he assumed was the leader leaned close to his ear. "Consider yourself fortunate," the first voice murmured. "You are worth nothing to us dead, Thranduil Oropherion."

* * *

><p>"We did not have lessons today," Calanon explained quietly, his tone shaking slightly as he looked back into Oropher's intense gaze. Aearion, troubled by the possible fate of the prince, was now leaning against the desk nearer the Elflings. "We decided to take our horses out for a ride through the forest. Then Thranduil told us a story he had heard, and we decided to see for ourselves if it was true."<p>

"I did not think it was a good idea," Helinniel quickly added. "But Thranduil was insistent. We should not have gone."

Oropher glanced at the youngest Elfling, his gaze softening slightly when he saw the thin line of tears in her eyes. "What story did he tell you?" he asked, though he suspected he knew the answer. "Where did you go?"

_"Amon Sereg?"_

_"Have you never heard of it?" Thranduil wondered, glancing back at his three friends from where his horse was in the lead._

_"No," Erynion, who had spoken first, said with a shake of his head. "What is it?"_

_A smirk appeared on Thranduil's face as he slowed his horse to a stop in front of a fork in the path, Calanon, Erynion, and Helinniel doing the same around him. "The story says it is a cursed hill within the borders of Greenwood," he told them quietly._

_"I do not believe in cursed places," Calanon stated firmly though Erynion and Helinniel both appeared slightly uncomfortable._

_Thranduil's eyes gleamed, almost in silent challenge. "Amon Sereg was once used as a post for Greenwood's guards. One night, they were ambushed. A violent struggle broke out, costing many lives. The guards finally took their attackers captive, chained them in the cave at its peak, and tortured them without mercy. Many more died."_

_The prince paused for effect, seeing he had his friends' undivided attention. Erynion looked back at him with wide eyes while Helinniel grasped her brother's hand tightly as they listened to the story. Though not outwardly as afraid as the other two, even Calanon appeared somewhat wary._

_"Then, one night, the prisoners escaped," Thranduil continued menacingly. "They slaughtered the guards in their sleep and fled, never to be seen again."_

_"Wh... what ambushed the guards?" Helinniel asked nervously._

_"No one knows," Thranduil answered with a slight smirk. "Though the story says the spirits of all those killed there still linger behind, seeking revenge for their unjust deaths."_

_"That is just a story," Calanon said with upmost confidence while Erynion grasped his sister's hand tighter in a protective manner. "That did not truly happen."_

_"Then how is it not even the bravest of soldiers venture there?" Thranduil's smirk broadened._

_Calanon hesitated for a moment. "Because... it is no longer in use," he replied. "There is no need."_

_Thranduil chuckled quietly. "If you are truly not afraid," he muttered, "would you see for yourself if the story is true?"_

_Some of the color drained from Calanon's face, but only a little. "A-aye, I would."_

_"Then let us go." The look in Thranduil's eye was sending out a silent challenge, daring his friend to ride with him to Amon Sereg._

_Calanon sighed before he nodded, tightening his hand around the reins of his horse. "Let us go."_

_"I do not believe..." Erynion began, but his sentence trailed off when Thranduil and Calanon both brought the horses down the narrower of the two paths that would bring them further away from the city. He glanced back at Helinniel's worried face before reluctantly following after them._

Oropher sighed heavily. He knew the legend of Amon Sereg well, having been the one who told it to Thranduil. But that was all it was. A story. "Is that where he is now?" he wondered. A nervous look that passed between Calanon, Erynion, and Helinniel was all the confirmation he needed. "And you _left_ him there?"

"No!" Erynion immediately protested. "He told us to leave."

Aearion exchanged confused looks with Oropher before they both looked back at the Elflings. "Why would he stay there alone?" the latter wondered. He was not able to conceive why his son would willingly choose to linger in such a place, and that was what concerned him most.

A moment of uncomfortable silence passed before Erynion continued to explain since Calanon could no longer meet the king's gaze. "The terrain is treacherous there, but we began climbing anyway..."

_"Watch your footing," Calanon cautioned from where he was ahead of his three friends as he slowly made his way up the short cliff. "Some of the rocks are a bit unsteady."_

_The four Elflings had left their horses tied to a couple trees at the edge of the clearing that surrounded Amon Sereg. The hill itself was not very tall, but it was steep with the swiftly running Duilwen River rushing beneath it. Determined to prove he was not afraid of a story he did not believe to be true, Calanon decided to lead the way up the cliff with Thranduil close behind. Helinniel followed after him with Erynion going last in effort to make sure his sister was safe._

_There were two outposts on this hill, one a broad rock ledge that overlooked the river below and the other a cave at its peak which faced out over the forest. The friends were nearly at the first one when a rock beneath Helinniel's foot came loose, and she screamed as she nearly fell. Thinking quickly, Thranduil reached back and got a secure hold of her wrist before she could tumble down, bringing her up to a slightly larger rock he was holding onto. Calanon, who had safely made it up to the ledge above, reached down and grabbed her hands, pulling her onto it before doing the same with Thranduil and then Erynion._

_"Beautiful view," the latter reluctantly admitted, looking down at the river. "Hard to believe such a thing happened here."_

_"It did not happen," Calanon argued defiantly, crossing his arms. "It is merely a story."_

_"Then mayhap you would not mind seeing the cave where the prisoners were tortured," Thranduil posed, his eyes gleaming._

_Calanon met his gaze before looking around the ledge, spotting a stone staircase toward the back that would bring them up to the infamous cave. There was only a short hesitation before he hurried toward them with determination, taking them two at a time until he was out of sight._

_"I... I'd rather stay here," Helinniel muttered when Thranduil turned to her and her brother expectantly._

_Thranduil nodded respectfully to her before he turned and disappeared up the staircase as well. Erynion lingered behind for a moment, but when he got a small smile from his sister, he followed after the prince._

_Once they reached the top, they found Calanon at the back of the cave, standing stiffly as he looked at something on the floor. Thranduil and Erynion exchanged wondering glances before they walked toward him. "What is it?" the latter asked._

_Calanon didn't answer. Instead, he pointed in front of him, and when the other two Elflings joined him, they saw he was staring at a few pairs of rusted chains connected to the wall. They were splotched with dark stains which looked eerily like blood._

_"It... it was true?"_

_Thranduil slowly shook his head. "This was once used as a guard post, yes," he confirmed. "But the story of the torture and slaughters is just that. A story. My father told it to me."_

_"Do you believe this place truly _is _cursed?" Calanon wondered, uncertain for the first time since they had decided to come to the cave._

_"No," Thranduil told him. "I do not."_

_"All right, we have seen it, but I believe we should not linger," Erynion said quietly, sounding nervous. "Besides, it will be dark soon."_

_The three Elflings turned to look at the mouth of the cave, seeing the sun was beginning to set behind the tall trees. If they wanted to reach the city by nightfall, they had best take his suggestion._

_But before they could do anything more, they turned to the staircase that had brought them there, seeing a worried Helinniel run up them. "Our horses are gone!"_

_"What?" Thranduil and Calanon hurried over to the edge of the cave, looking across the clearing to where they had tied their horses, seeing what she said was true. They were nowhere to be seen._

_Dread began to nag at Thranduil. Something was amiss. They should not have come here. "Go," he murmured, turning to Calanon. "Go!"_

_Not having to be told again, Calanon ran toward where their other two friends were waiting by the top of the staircase, ushering them to go down first before he went down himself. Thranduil followed them to the rock ledge, watching as they began to carefully scale down the short cliff. He started to go after them, but he gasped when he heard quiet footsteps behind him. They weren't alone._

_A startled cry escaped from him when his arms were roughly grabbed and forced behind his back, pain wrenching his shoulders. He could hear Calanon starting to climb back up toward the ledge, but Thranduil shook his head even though he knew his friend couldn't see him. "No! Go!"_

_Then, a soft cloth obstructed his vision, and his world went black._

"Thranduil saved us," Erynion concluded in nearly a whisper, taking Helinniel's hand. "We would have returned for him, but we were pursued for a short distance. We outran whatever it was and made it back here even without our horses. I... I know not what happened to him."

Oropher visibly tensed as his eyes narrowed, but there was no outward sign of the fear he suddenly felt. He could not recall how many times he had told Thranduil to stay away from Amon Sereg, and he was angry that he had endangered his friends by goading them there. But something else was there as well, and that fury was quickly being quelled by nearly overwhelming worry.

"We... we're so sorry," Helinniel added.

The king did not answer immediately. Instead, Oropher rose to his feet and turned his back on the Elflings, leaning against the stone wall beside the window and closing his eyes. Aearion looked at him with concern as he pushed away from the desk and took a couple steps toward him.

"_Hír-nín_?"

Oropher rose a ringed hand, silencing him, as he turned back to the young Elves. "You have my leave," he told them firmly.

"But..." However, Calanon was quieted by the stern look that crossed the king's face, and he nodded in respect as he stood from the couch. Erynion and Helinniel did the same, and they all crossed the study and stepped out into the hallway. However, the youngest lingered behind for a moment, casting a sorrow-filled look at the king.

"Please find him," she murmured before she left after her friend and brother.

Once he and his advisor were alone, Oropher sighed and passed his hand slowly over his face, setting his palms on his desk as he stared intently at the pile of paperwork that sat on top of it as though he would find the answers he needed there. "You know the story of Amon Sereg, do you not?" he asked quietly.

Aearion closed the door of the study before turning back to him. "Of course, Oropher," he answered gently. Being a close friend of the king's since childhood, the advisor was the only one who could address him without a title if no one was around to hear. "It is merely a story. No such massacre occurred, and it is certainly not cursed."

Oropher raised his gaze to Aearion's concerned one, his confident demeanor slowly slipping away. "It is a guard post no longer in use," he added thoughtfully. "A mere story told to Elflings so they will not go near the treacherous terrain and the Duilwen." He paused. His son was in danger, but he had no idea what it was they were up against. "What would be in such a dangerous place, Aearion?"

The advisor slowly shook his head. "I know not," he admitted quietly, wishing he had a different answer for the distressed king to put his mind at rest. "But what caught your son is no spirit."

"No." After a long moment passed, the anger returned to Oropher's eyes once more as he left his desk and made his way toward the door. Trespassing within his realm was not something he dealt with lightly. Though alleged spirit or not, it did not matter. He would not leave Thranduil. "Come."

"What would you have me do, Oropher?" Aearion wondered, not moving to stop him as he hurried past.

The king paused in the doorway, glancing back at his advisor and friend. "Ready my horse."

**Author's Note**: So, that's it for this one! Special thanks again to **Gwedhiel0117 **for her encouragement to get this posted (I think I have driven you crazy enough with my hints, lol). Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Everyone you do not recognize belong to me.

**Summary**: He was warned to never go to the cursed hill. But when Thranduil disobeys his father's orders to see if the stories are true, a single event from Oropher's past threatens the life of his young son.

**Author's Note**: All right, the fall semester has started for me, so my updates will be a little less frequent. But I'll keep on as constant of an updating schedule as I possibly can. But I'm glad you guys like this story! Thank you to **Gwedhiel0117**, **The Pearl Maiden**, **doreenthatshot**, **Elven Warrior Princess**, and **PaxtonxJulia **for your reviews! They're greatly appreciated! Hope you like this one too!

Elvish:

_hír-nín_- my lord  
><em>ada<em>- father  
><em>goheno nín<em>- forgive me  
><em>ion-nín<em>- my son

_Chapter 2_

Thranduil stared blankly out at the dark clearing and forest beneath him, absently holding the two broken pieces of his circlet in his hands. Since he was not being restrained, he was sitting as close to the trees as he could be, their quiet, calming voices and the cool but soft wind on his face a reprieve from the suffocating darkness of his prison. How he wished he could have escaped from the cave, but the climb was much too steep, and he dared not attempt it lest he fall. The only way out of the outpost was the gentler incline he and his friends had climbed to get to the ledge.

His captors had left the cave some time ago, but the smell and light from a fire they had started on the rock ledge below faintly lit the stone steps that led up to him. Their gruff voices were loud and could be clearly heard, even if he did not have such sharp hearing, as they planned what they would do with him. None of their suggestions sounded pleasant, but they all ended with taking him to his father and offering him for ransom.

He tightened his hands around the cool metal, filled with sudden determination. He was the prince of Greenwood. He would not allow them to have their way with him. He would make his father proud, not shame him as he had already done.

Thranduil then turned his head to look at the staircase when he no longer heard the voices of his captors, though the light from the fire, now dimmer, still remained. He strained his ears, but still he heard nothing. His hopes rose a little. Perhaps they had fallen asleep. This was his chance.

Keeping a tight hold on his broken circlet, Thranduil rose to his feet and silently walked back into the cave before slowly starting to make his way down the stone steps, keeping close to the wall in case of some deceit. The young Elf paused when he reached the rock ledge, cautiously sneaking a glance around. The fire that had been started had been reduced to embers, four figures huddled close around it to fight off the night's chill.

A slight smile appeared on Thranduil's face. Calanon, Erynion, and Helinniel must have reached Greenwood and alerted his father since they had not been brought back to the cave. If he left now, the king would not have to come for him. He could return here with more soldiers to apprehend the people who had taken him. It would be a simple matter to deal with, though he dreaded facing his father's fury. This thought caused Thranduil to hesitate for a moment as he cautiously took a step out onto the ledge, but he realized it would be better to face Oropher's wrath than whatever his captors had in mind for him.

However, it was the slight hesitation that cost him.

One of the figures curled by the fire began to stir, and Thranduil froze when he felt his eyes land on him. A moment passed where neither of them moved, and then his captor's dark eyes cleared as he turned to the other three.

"The wretch is trying to escape!"

Thranduil immediately ran from the shelter of the stone staircase and made his way toward the edge of the ledge. He nimbly climbed over it and began to scale down the rocky cliff that would bring him to the safety of the clearing. He was almost there.

But he did not get far when a hand roughly grabbed his light hair from above. Thranduil stopped at the sharp pain that moved through his head, and he couldn't hold back a cry when one of his captors pulled him back up by the hold he had on his hair. The prince dropped to his knees on the rock ledge, closing his eyes tightly against the tears that burned in them to keep them back. He refused to let them fall. He would not outwardly show weakness.

Then, the hand that still held his hair roughly jerked his head up to face its owner, and Thranduil bit back a second cry. Once he forced his tears back, he slowly opened his eyes to face his captors, and they widened with horror when he looked upon their faces for the first time.

* * *

><p>Oropher slid his sword in its sheath on his hip before securing his quiver of arrows on his back over his dark riding tunic. He ensured the dagger he carried in his boot was secure and put his bow over his shoulder before he left the palace, stepping out into the cool night air. The king swiftly made his way down the steps that led up to the doors and down the dark path, his intense gaze on the stables in front of him where he knew Aearion was waiting with their horses. The sooner he could leave for Amon Sereg, the sooner Thranduil would be out of danger.<p>

"My son told me a peculiar thing."

Recognizing the familiar voice, Oropher paused and glanced over his shoulder, seeing Thalion, the captain of Greenwood's army, had followed him, his fair hair tied in a ponytail behind his head as he usually wore it for battle. However, he had no time to waste, and he turned away and continued walking.

"Calanon told me Thranduil was taken by a spirit," Thalion continued, taking a couple steps after him.

Oropher stopped again, sighing as he turned completely to face the captain. "It was no spirit," he muttered. "Now if you would please."

Thalion, however, continued to follow his king when he turned away again. "It is true he is at Amon Sereg then?" he asked. His step was unhindered when he received no answer. "You cannot expect to go alone, _hír-nín_, when you know not what you are facing."

A slight smirk appeared on Oropher's face as he continued walking. "I am not going alone," he told him. "Aearion rides with me."

"I beg your pardon, but how long has it been since Aearion has wielded a sword?" Thalion wondered with a quiet chuckle as they entered the stables.

"Not as long as you give me credit for, captain."

Oropher and Thalion paused as Aearion approached them from the darkness, pulling his and the king's horses behind him. "I am quite capable," the advisor added in a disgruntled manner as he handed the reins of the white horse to Oropher. He then cast a pointed glance to the sword on his hip.

"The fewer who ride, the sooner we will reach the outpost," Oropher stated as he mounted his horse, Aearion climbing up on his black one as well. He met Thalion's gaze. "I need to reach Amon Sereg with all speed. You must understand."

However, the captain stepped in front of the king's horse, ignoring the glare he received in return. "I beg your pardon once more, _hír-nín_," Thalion muttered, his tone steady. "My son was one of those who went out to Amon Sereg, and he would not have returned had it not been for the prince. I have known your son since his birth, and I want to ensure his safe return as well."

Oropher regarded Thalion carefully for a moment. Time was slipping away for his son the longer he spent debating with the captain, though he knew having Thalion aid them in their search could possibly help Thranduil more since they did not know what they were facing. Finally, he sighed.

"Very well. Just keep up."

* * *

><p><em>Dwarves<em>.

Thranduil found himself looking into the indignant faces of four Dwarves. How they had been dwelling so near the city without being detected, he could not conceive, other than this place was always abandoned.

However, though his heart was filled with dread, the Elfling was determined not to outwardly show it. He would not allow them to use that fear against him.

"My father knows I am here," Thranduil said in the Common Tongue so his captors would understand him, attempting to remain confident. "You will not succeed with your plots against him."

The Dwarves exchanged glances before they all laughed. Thranduil had not been anticipating this response, and his gaze flickered slightly. "All the better, wretch," the black-bearded leader replied with a grin, tightening his hold on the prince's hair. "Saves us the trouble of bringing you to him."

Thranduil winced as the Dwarves laughed again. The dark-bearded one then turned his attention to two red-bearded Dwarves with similar features standing on his left. "Drorin. Dworin. Tend to the fire," he commanded.

"Aye, Galin."

As the brothers left to do as they were ordered, Galin then turned to face the remaining brown-bearded Dwarf on his right, keeping a tight hold on Thranduil. "Come, Throri," he added. "Let us escort the prince back to his cave."

A menacing grin appeared on Throri's face as he reached a hand toward Thranduil's arm to help Galin bring him back to his prison. However, the young Elf reacted faster than either of them anticipated. He pulled out the two pieces of his broken circlet he was keeping in the sleeves of his light riding tunic and lashed out, one half cutting Throri across the cheek while the other slashed Galin's arm. The Dwarves, crying out with surprise, released him, and Thranduil once again made his way toward the edge of the rock ledge.

But Galin recovered quickly, roughly grabbing his long, fair hair to stop him. Thranduil was pulled to the ground, his broken circlet flying out of his hands. Throri immediately picked the two pieces up and tossed them down the rocky cliff to the clearing below so they could not be used again. Despite the sharp pain in his head, the prince struggled against the Dwarf in charge as he got to his feet, attempting to pull away. Seeing the commotion, Drorin and Dworin hurried back over and grabbed Thranduil's arms, holding them behind his back. The young Elf struggled in their hold, but he stopped immediately when Galin's knee connected with his stomach. He slumped over, gasping for air when his knee hit him in the same spot a second time before he was dropped to the rock ledge. Coughing, Thranduil curled in on himself to protect his midsection.

"Perhaps now you will learn to cooperate," Galin muttered before turning to the brown-bearded Dwarf beside him. "Bring him up."

Ensuring he was through retaliating, Throri roughly grabbed Thranduil around the waist and tossed him over his shoulder, making his way toward the staircase that would bring him up to the cave. He ignored the noticeable wince the prince gave when his stomach came in contact with his arm and hurried his pace when Galin started to follow along behind.

The two Dwarves reached the top of the steps and carelessly dropped Thranduil on the ground in the back of the cave, causing the young Elf to wince when he landed on a good-sized rock before covering his abdomen protectively. Galin and Throri both chuckled as they towered over the young Elf.

"If your father truly knew you were here, wretch, how is it he has not come for you yet?" the dark-bearded Dwarf asked, a cruel smile curling up the corner of his lips. Thranduil turned away from him, not giving an answer. He did not deserve one.

Galin's smile only broadened as he knelt beside the prince, running his fingers tauntingly through his hair. "You believe he will come to your aid, do you not?" When he still got no response other than Thranduil's body tensing, the Dwarf's expression darkened. "As did I."

Thranduil slowly turned to look at Galin, ensuring his expression would not betray his confusion as he gazed at him with steady blue eyes. He knew his captors knew his father, but he was unsure what their leader meant. When had he expected aid from Oropher? He could see the clear hatred in the dark-bearded Dwarf's eyes when he spoke of Greenwood's king, a look which unnerved him since he could only imagine the animosity behind those three words.

"We shall see if honorable Oropher comes for his wretch," Galin concluded, cupping Thranduil's chin in his hand and pulling his head roughly up from the ground. "We shall see."

The ice in his tone chilled Thranduil's heart. His father would come for him, he knew he would. There was no doubt in his mind. He would not abandon him here to be left at the mercy of these Dwarves. He had to come.

Thranduil then picked up the rock he had landed on when he was dropped and lashed out with it, watching with satisfaction as it connected with Galin's jaw. The head Dwarf stumbled back while the young Elf scrambled away from them, pushing himself to his feet. He avoided Throri's reaching hands when he rushed at him and made his way toward the staircase.

But before he could make it, Thranduil gasped when something wrapped around his ankle, bringing him back to the ground. He glanced behind him, seeing Galin, one hand resting on his jaw, had grabbed his foot with his free hand and was now glaring dangerously at him as he started to pull him back toward him. Thranduil kicked out with his other foot, attempting to free himself, before a sudden pain to his midsection caused him to still. He looked up, seeing Throri was standing over him as he kicked his side a second time. The young Elf closed his eyes and bit down hard on his lip when the other Dwarf's foot came in contact with his side one more time. He was a prince. He refused to cry out.

When another kick didn't come, Thranduil cautiously opened his eyes before a hand roughly grabbed him by his hair and pulled him up to his feet. He found himself looking into the furious face of Galin, seeing a bruise was already forming where the rock had connected with his slightly swelling jaw, his bottom lip bleeding.

"You miserable wretch!" he shouted, raising his hand. Thranduil had no time to prepare for the strike that stung his cheek, feeling his bottom lip split. He closed his eyes when he felt burning tears beginning to rise to them, refusing to let them fall. He was then roughly shoved to Throri.

"We cannot trust he will not attempt to escape again," Galin continued, calmer now as he took a few deep breaths. "Restrain him. If Oropher does not come by first light, we leave for the city."

Panicked when he realized what his captors meant, Thranduil struggled in Throri's arms as he dragged him toward the back wall of the cave. But the brown-bearded Dwarf did not relent his hold on him as Galin disappeared down the steps, and the young Elf watched with dread as Throri reached out and picked up one of the chains that had been neglected for years. Thranduil continued his resistance, but it did not last long when his captor raised his right arm and held it firmly against the wall as he cuffed his wrist in the rusty chain, soon doing the same with his left. The prince struggled against the restraints that held him, glaring up at Throri as he chuckled.

"Settle down now," he told him menacingly. "You are not going anywhere tonight."

Thranduil watched as Throri continued to chuckle as he then left him too, following the other Dwarf down the staircase back to the rock ledge below. He then desperately looked at his arms trapped to the wall on either side of his head, giving one more futile effort to free them from the chains that held them. But it was useless. Despite not having been used for so long, the cuffs still held fast.

Sighing with defeat, Thranduil slumped back against the wall, not bothering to stop the tears rushing to his eyes this time since he was alone. His body began to shake slightly, but not only due to the pain he had endured as a couple tears escaped and rolled down his cheeks. He was afraid– afraid of what the Dwarves would do to him next, afraid of what would happen if his father did not come for him...

The prince stubbornly shook his head, refusing to accept the last thought. His father would come for him soon, he had to. Calanon, Erynion, and Helinniel had to have told him what happened by now.

But then, Thranduil's eyes widened at this thought. If his friends had told him they had gone to a place they were not allowed to go, what if his father was so furious with him he would not come? What if his father felt this was just punishment for denying him? He had always been strict, and disobedience was something he had never tolerated. What if he did not believe his friends' story? His father did not know the Dwarves were here, and he knew he would not believe tales of spirits. What if he did not think he was in any danger and was waiting for him to return home on his own?

What if he truly did not come?

Thranduil began shaking a little more as tears fell a bit more freely down his cheeks as he closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, _Ada_," he whispered, despising how weak he sounded. "_Goheno nín_. Please, _Ada_. _Goheno nín_."

* * *

><p>"We found them near the clearing, <em>hír-nín<em>."

Oropher dismounted his horse, quickly approaching his advisor and the captain. They had been traveling down the narrow path that would bring them to Amon Sereg, the sound of the rushing river at its base growing steadily louder, when they had hit an obstacle. Four horses, two black, one brown, and one white, were grazing at the base of a tree in front of them. His heart raced when he recognized the white one nearest them. It was Thranduil's horse.

"Tie them to a tree," the king commanded, his tone surprisingly steady. "We will return for them."

Aearion took the reins of the riderless horses, and after soothing them, tied them securely to the tree they were continuing to graze around. Oropher gazed at them for a long moment before he tied the reins of his own horse to another tree. Thalion looked at him curiously.

"_Hír-nín_?"

"Our horses will not serve us once we reach the outpost," Oropher answered, ensuring his sword was still secure on his hip and his bow on his shoulder. "We had best continue on foot. This will also give us an upper hand if our adversaries do not know we are approaching since our horses would give away our presence."

Accepting this logic, Thalion tied his horse to the same tree as the king's while Aearion did shortly after. Once they were sure they were secure, the three Elves hurried forward until they reached the edge of the clearing, finding shelter beside a few cut down trees, which would have angered Oropher if he hadn't been so worried for his son, as they carefully studied the landscape before them.

The short cliff of Amon Sereg loomed against the inky sky, the dark rapids of the Duilwen beneath a rock ledge seeming to swallow the moon's gentle rays. There was a dim light coming from the ledge, most likely from a fire, and the king's light eyes narrowed slightly. Whatever, rather whoever, had taken his son must have been gathered around the fire on the ledge lower on the short hill.

"Mayhap he is being kept in the cave," he whispered, thinking aloud to himself as his intense gaze moved to the peak of the cliff where the small cave looked out over the forest.

"The best way to approach would be from near the river," Aearion mused. "The sound will cover our tracks. And the cliff up to the ledge would be more manageable to climb than the one up to the cave..."

However, Oropher did not hear the rest of his advisor's suggestions. His eyes had caught something in the grass near the base of the hill that reflected the moonlight, and without any word of warning, he hurried out from the shelter of the trees.

"No, _hír-nín_!" Thalion hissed, but his words went unheeded as the king began to cross the clearing. He glanced at Aearion, who appeared just as startled, before running out after him with the advisor right behind.

Oropher hardly heard the two Elves running behind him, the only matter of importance being the object that lay before him. He knelt on the ground, seeing there was another silver item not too far from the first, and reached out to take the one nearest him. His eyes widened when he recognized it immediately as he held it in his palm.

It was half of the circlet Thranduil wore. Dread struck the king's heart as he reached out and took the other half, slowly piecing them together. Something was wrong.

"Oh, _ion-nín_..."

Aearion and Thalion stopped behind Oropher, exchanging concerned glances when they saw the broken circlet in his hands. A dark look crossed the king's face when he studied the two halves a bit closer, able to see the clean cut that had separated them. From what he could tell, the damage had been done by a heavy blade, the most likely culprit being an axe.

Oropher then looked at the rocky cliff that led up to the ledge above them, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he got to his feet. He slipped the two halves of his son's circlet into his quiver of arrows for temporary keeping as he took a deep breath.

Whoever had taken Thranduil was going to suffer dearly for what they had done.

**Author's Note**: Originally, there was going to be one more section here, but I figured this was a good place to stop it. So, the original ending of this chapter will now be the ending for the next one. But things are starting to pick up here. What do these Dwarves have against Oropher? Well, we'll have to see ;) Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Everyone you do not recognize belong to me.

**Summary**: He was warned to never go to the cursed hill. But when Thranduil disobeys his father's orders to see if the stories are true, a single event from Oropher's past threatens the life of his young son.

**Author's Note**: Hey, and I'm back! Glad I seemed to catch a lot of you guys off guard with the Dwarves! What do they want with Thranduil? Well, there might be some more questions and answers here, lol. Thanks so much to **The Pearl Maiden**, **Gwedhiel0117**, **doreenthatshot**, and **Elven Warrior Princess** for your reviews! I'm glad you guys enjoyed the last chapter, and I will pass on your hugs to Thranduil, lol! Since I broke up chapter two a little bit, there is some new material in this chapter that originally wasn't going to be here, but I like how it turned out so much better since I think it helps the plot along, as well as explores Oropher and Thranduil's relationship a little bit. So now that Oropher is on his way, what'll happen next? We'll have to find out ;) Thanks, guys! Hope you enjoy!

Elvish:

_ion-nín_- my son  
><em>ada<em>- father  
><em>nana<em>- mom  
><em>tithen pen<em>- little one

_Chapter 3_

_Oropher removed his drenched cloak and carefully hung it over the chair in his study to dry. The steady rainfall that had persisted over the past few days, which had made his journey home a bit unpleasant, pounded against the window as a flash of lightning split the dark sky, a low rumble of thunder following soon after as the king pulled his fair, water-logged hair into a ponytail behind his head. He sighed, passing a ringed hand over his face as he leaned heavily on his desk, closing his eyes._

_However, it was not only the dreadful weather that had burdened his heart. Not after what had happened._

_A quiet knock on his door was heard over the downpour outside. Oropher responded with a simple "Mmm," not minding who would wish to disturb him when he had just returned to the palace. He was exhausted. Surely the matter could not be too important._

_The door opened, and the king only opened his eyes when he felt whoever had entered stop before his desk. A concerned Aearion stood across from him, his light eyes looking over him closely. "Oropher, I-!"_

_But his advisor was abruptly interrupted when Oropher suddenly gasped as he straightened up, his eyes slightly wide. "My son? How fares my son?" He had been reluctant to leave his wife and newborn son due to his rough birth for the obligated duty he had, and he had not left until he knew for certain the tiny prince would be all right. But he was still greatly concerned._

_Aearion gave him a small smile. "He is well, Oropher," he told him gently, causing the monarch to sigh with clear relief. "He has been sleeping well in your absence, though not through a night yet."_

_"I must see him," Oropher muttered, pushing himself away from the desk._

_The advisor nodded once, what he had been there to report forgotten about as the king hurried past him and out of the study. His friend's family came first after all._

_Oropher hurried down the hallway despite Aearion's words, slowing to a stop only when he reached the room he shared with his wife. He quietly opened the door without hesitation before stepping inside and shutting it just as quietly behind him. He then turned to face the dark bedroom, his light eyes scanning over the cradle they had set up on the opposite wall before they landed on their bed across from it. A slight smile tugged at the corner of the king's lips when he saw his wife stretched out at the end of it nearest the crib, her eyes closed in exhaustion with one hand hanging off one end of the bed and her feet off the other._

_Silently, Oropher picked up a blanket from their divan near the door before he made his way to the bed and carefully draped it over his wife, ensuring her feet were covered, to keep her warm. She did not stir, though a hint of a smile appeared on her face when he leaned down and lightly kissed her forehead. Clearly, the rough childbirth had taken its toll on her, as had caring for their infant son while he was gone. The king tenderly brushed a loose strand of her light hair behind her ear, sighing with concern._

_Then, he looked over his shoulder at the cradle across from him. Once he was sure his wife was resting peacefully, Oropher straightened and crossed the room, a relieved smile appearing on his face when he saw the sleeping Elfling. He was so small with scarce traces of fair hair, his tiny hands curled into fists. The monarch slowly reached into the crib and carefully covered his son with the blanket more to ensure he was warm enough, lightly setting a couple fingers on his arm._

_"I would have been here if I could have been," Oropher whispered, mainly to himself. He knew his duty as king, knew he had obligations to uphold, and though he had been gone for what normally wouldn't have been too long of a time, it still bothered him that he had not been with his wife and newborn son when it mattered most. "But I am here now."_

_Suddenly, a bright flash of lightning completely lit the dark room, a loud crash of thunder echoing through the walls of the palace. The Elfling beneath his fingertips began to whimper, his wife beginning to stir soon after when she heard her son's distress._

_However, Oropher reached down and carefully picked up their small child, making sure his head was supported as he held him close to his chest securely but gently. What power this being had over him he did not believe he would ever know, for simply holding his son eased his troubled mind as a thin line of tears formed in his eyes. "Shh, _ion-nín_," the king soothed quietly, brushing his fingers lightly over the Elfling's head. "It's all right. _Ada's_ here. You are safe. Shh..."_

_Oropher began to walk with his son away from the window and the storm raging outside, and a slight smile crossed his face when the tiny Elf's whimpers slowly trailed off, one of his small hands grabbing onto his tunic while he buried his face in his father's chest. The king glanced back at his wife at the end of their bed, seeing she was lying still once more. His smile broadened as he then sat on the divan, making sure the precious bundle he held in his arms was wrapped comfortably in his blanket as he leaned back against the arm rest._

_"Rest easy, Thranduil."_

Oropher absently watched the dark rapids of the Duilwen rush past him, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the base of Amon Sereg. He would never forget the first time he had held Thranduil in his arms during that storm since after his rough, early birth, he immediately had to be placed in the care of the palace's healers. It had been one of the darkest hours of the king's life while he had waited with his wife to learn the fate of their son, uncertain if he would survive. And now, knowing his Elfling was in danger once more, he wished to shield him from whatever threatened him now, just as he had that first night.

Aearion, who had finished finalizing their plan with Thalion, turned to look at his lord and friend standing near the river with concern for a moment before he made his way over. "You know the plan, Oropher," he said.

Another moment passed before Oropher glanced back at his advisor, his uncertain gaze hardening as he nodded once. "Aye." He then looked up at the rock ledge above them, now able to faintly hear the gruff voices of who he assumed to be Thranduil's captors. The king glanced back at Aearion and Thalion as they pulled the hoods of their dark riding cloaks over their heads before he slowly did the same.

It would not be much longer before his son was out of harm's way.

* * *

><p><em>Thranduil hesitated outside the tall set of double doors before him for only a moment before he pushed on the one which was already open a crack, slowly stepping into the dark room. His gaze saddened slightly when he turned to the window. His father, normally so proud, was sitting tensely in the chair in front of it, his pale face void of expression as he stared out into the night. The confidence was gone from his sharp gaze, the commanding presence depleted from this now slightly slouched figure. This was not the noble king of Greenwood. This was not his father.<em>

_The young prince sighed quietly, forcing back the tears that threatened to rise to his eyes. He had never once seen his father in this state, though he should have almost expected it. That day had been hard for both of them, for they had to watch his mother, the one his father loved as his equal and partner, leave them. She had told them she would always love them despite her actions, but the memories of what had transpired in the halls of the palace were too painful for her to bear, for she had witnessed her father give his life to save Oropher's, his final act causing her mother to leave for Valinor. The king had been left with no choice other than to allow her to leave, though she had left them with no word on whether she would return to Greenwood._

_"_Ada_?" Thranduil asked with concern._

_Oropher glanced over his shoulder at his son, a slight smile appearing on his face. "Thranduil," he muttered, his voice, which had contained little to no feeling since his wife's departure, lifting slightly._

_Thranduil slowly walked toward his father, stopping beside him and studying his face carefully when Oropher met his gaze. The young prince had never seen those blue eyes so empty. It was unnerving._

_He then moved closer to the king, tightly wrapping his arms around him and resting his head against his shoulder. Oropher regarded his son for a moment before he wound his arms around Thranduil as well, pulling his small form onto his lap as he sighed heavily._

_They sat that way in silence for neither one knew how long, finding comfort in the other's presence. Thranduil kept a tight hold on his father, a thin line of tears forming in his eyes. He had not approached Oropher since his mother had left them, and now that he was safe in the king's arms where he often sought comfort, the strong feelings of abandonment that he had kept contained were beginning to break through the walls of his resolve._

_"_Ada... _Why did _Nana_ leave?" the young prince asked quietly, fighting to keep his tears from falling._

_"Her reasons for departing Greenwood are her own," Oropher answered just as quietly as though speaking any louder would compromise his current strength. "She felt as though she had to, _tithen pen_. I could not deny her request."_

_Thranduil bit his lip for a moment, a couple tears escaping from his eyes despite his best efforts to restrain them. He had seen how upset his mother had seemed as of late, but he did not understand why she would abandon them. Couldn't they have helped her?_

_Fear then gripped the prince's heart. "_Ada_, did I do something wrong?" Thranduil pressed anxiously, tightening his hand on his father's light tunic as more tears fell from his eyes. "Does she not love me?"_

_Oropher stiffened slightly at his son's inquiry, slowly tightening his arms around him. "Do not believe for one moment your mother does not love you, _ion-nín_," he told him firmly, holding the Elfling close. "She loves you more than anyone in this world, as do I. Do not forget that, Thranduil. Do not ever forget that."_

_Thranduil's tears now fell freely, though they rolled ignored down his cheeks. His mother had claimed she loved him, his father echoing her words, but she had still left. Why? His mind was reeling, unable to focus on one particular thought. He felt abandoned. He felt guilty. He was furious. He was heartbroken. He was confused. He longed for his mother._

_"Will... will _Nana_ return, _Ada_?" the prince wondered softly, his tone containing no feeling as he attempted to decide which emotion he should focus on._

_"I... I know not, _tithen pen_," Oropher muttered, his voice cracking slightly._

_Surprised by the uncertainty of the king's normally steady voice, Thranduil slowly looked up into his face. Oropher was looking back at him with a hint of a smile crossing his features, his light eyes moist. In the gentle moonlight, the prince watched as a single tear rolled down his father's cheek._

Thranduil sat still against the cave wall. His tears had stopped some time ago as he blankly stared at the night sky across from him. How he longed to feel the wind, to hear the voices of the trees, to be free from these chains in this dark, enclosed place. How he longed for his father, to feel secure enfolded in his arms once more.

Then, he slowly looked up when he heard nearing footsteps in time to see Throri appear at the top of the stone staircase. His eyes widened fearfully when he saw the axe in his hands.

The young Elf shrunk back against the rock wall behind him when the brown-bearded Dwarf approached, causing him to growl in irritation. "Hold still," Throri snapped as he raised the weapon.

Realizing he had nowhere to go, Thranduil closed his eyes and turned his face away. If this was to be his end, he knew he should have bravely faced it as the prince he was. As his father would have done. But he was too afraid, and he knew he was not only bringing shame to himself by admitting it.

However, he never felt the blade. Instead, his arms dropped to his sides, one after the other, as the axe cut the chains that were restraining him. Thranduil cautiously opened his eyes and looked down on his hands, seeing the cuffs were still tight around his wrists, but at least he was not trapped to the wall anymore. The muscles in his shoulders protested to the sudden movement after cramping from being in one position for what felt like a long passage of time, and he rolled them out to try to loosen them.

"Galin wants to see you," Throri added, reaching out and roughly taking Thranduil's arm as he pulled him to his feet before dragging him to the staircase behind him.

Once they reached the bottom of the steps, Throri shoved him forward, and Thranduil winced when he threw his hands out to catch himself as he landed on his knees near the fire. He turned them upward, seeing the small scrapes covering his palms from the rough treatment over the course of the time he had been in captivity. Then, he raised his gaze when a foot landed in front of him, seeing the black-bearded Dwarf was smirking down on him.

"What a joy it is to see the prince of Greenwood kneeling before me," Galin said, his eyes gleaming as the other three Dwarves laughed.

Thranduil felt a surge of anger, which was enough to push himself to his feet. "I would _never_ bow to you!" he replied heatedly.

Throri and the red-bearded brothers Drorin and Dworin reached for the young Elf, but Galin raised a hand to stop them. "Let him be," he told them quietly before turning his dark gaze back to the seething Thranduil. "It is not you, wretch, who I ultimately desire to have kneeling before me."

His anger slowly slipping away, Thranduil gazed back at the Dwarf with mounting horror. But then, he caught a glimpse of movement from behind Galin, seeing a dark figure with a hood covering their face was crouched at the edge of the rock ledge, just out of the light of the fire. For a moment, his heart raced, remembering the stories of spirits that were said to linger in Amon Sereg. He had always believed this place truly wasn't cursed, but now, he wasn't so sure.

However, he was not the only one to see this mysterious figure.

Either Drorin or Dworin, the prince was unsure which, cried out with fear and pointed behind Galin. "What is that?" he asked fearfully.

Galin quickly turned around as Thranduil followed his gaze, and the latter was surprised to see the figure was no longer there. But, he realized, spirit or not, he could use their unease to his advantage.

"It is said this place is cursed," he said quietly, using the same tone he had when he had told this story to his friends.

"Cursed?" The other red-bearded brother sounded just as nervous as the first.

Thranduil glanced over his shoulder at them, a slight smile on his face. "This used to be a post for our guards," he explained. "One night, they were ambushed, though no one knows by what. A violent struggle cost many their lives. Our guards took their attackers captive and tortured them without mercy in the cave where you kept me. Many were killed, but one night, the prisoners escaped and slaughtered the guards in their sleep before they fled." He paused, seeing his words were having the desired effect on the two brothers.

"They say those who were killed here still linger, seeking revenge for their unjust deaths," he concluded, dropping his voice even more, "taking the form of figures in black."

Drorin and Dworin exchanged concerned looks while Thranduil turned away with a slight smirk, purposely describing what he and the brothers had seen. However, Galin laughed loudly.

"A mere child's story," he boasted confidently. "We have traveled here for some time and have not seen any spirits."

Thranduil's eyes narrowed slightly, wondering just how long the Dwarves had been breaching Greenwood's borders without being detected. It was clear the dark-bearded Dwarf had some grudge against his father, and for a moment, he feared what could have happened if they had gotten much closer to the city.

The brothers were not convinced, however, as they glared at Thranduil. "The wretch drew them out!" Drorin shouted, ignoring the startled look the prince gave him. "He's an Elf!"

Galin rolled his eyes, but it was Throri who was spurred into action. "I believe in no spirit," he muttered, holding his axe tightly in his hands as he passed the small group. "Watch and see. Whatever you saw is flesh and blood."

Thranduil watched anxiously as the brown-bearded Dwarf disappeared out of the light of the fire to confront the alleged spirit. A short moment passed before the young Elf jumped when a gruff, panicked yell rang out through the night.

Drorin and Dworin stiffened while Galin's eyes narrowed angrily. "Throri!" he shouted, but he got no response. The head Dwarf then roughly grabbed Thranduil's arm and pulled him forward with him as he walked to the edge of the rock ledge, startled to see the Dwarf in question lying on the grass beneath them.

"Are you all right?" Galin called out.

"Ye... yes..." came the dazed response from Throri. "I... I was shoved..."

Growling angrily, Galin pulled Thranduil back to the fire and the red-bearded brothers, who were now pale-faced and wide-eyed, and shoved him forcefully to the ground. The young Elf winced when he landed hard on his left arm, rolling onto his back to look up at the three Dwarves towering over him.

"I do not know what is happening here, but it is _not_ a spirit!" Galin snapped. To take out his frustration, he kicked the vulnerable Elf in the side. Thranduil curled up in response, attempting to protect his midsection as he closed his eyes tightly to stop himself from making a sound. But when the Dwarf's foot came down on his tender arm, the prince couldn't stop a pained cry from breaking through his lips.

Suddenly, Drorin and Dworin shouted fearfully. Galin turned his attention away from Thranduil, his eyes widening slightly when he saw all that was left of them was their axes in the light of the fire. He grabbed Thranduil by the hair and pulled him to his feet, though he could not stand completely, and dragged him over to the other edge of the ledge, the young Elf dropping to his knees. The red-bearded brothers were both in the clearing below, seeming disoriented as they sat up. They had also been shoved.

Furious now, Galin cried out as he moved back into the light and stood with his back to the fire, holding the weary Thranduil in front of him almost as a shield. "Whatever you are," he murmured to the darkness as he looked frantically around him, his voice rising, "show yourself!"

There was a quiet footstep to his left, and Galin quickly turned to where Throri had been tossed off the ledge, wrapping his arm around Thranduil's neck and pulling the young Elf close to him as he ignored his attempts to free his throat from his tight grasp. The black-bearded Dwarf took a step back when a tall figure in a dark cloak stepped into the light from the fire, a hood concealing the face.

"It _is_ some spirit..." Galin whispered in disbelief, tightening his arm around Thranduil's neck slightly as he brought him around the fire.

There was a quiet laugh from the dark-cloaked figure, and the prince's eyes slowly opened at the sound. "Not entirely."

Hardly daring to believe he was hearing the familiar deep voice, Thranduil's eyes widened as the figure pulled back the hood, revealing the fair but furious features of the king of Greenwood. "_Ada_!"

Oropher's gaze softened slightly as he gazed at his injured son, but it hardened just as quickly when Thranduil gasped as Galin cut off his breath even more. "Release him," he said firmly, fury laced heavily in his tone.

However, Galin only laughed. "Oropher, Oropher. You come so easily for your wretch here," he replied, tauntingly running his fingers over Thranduil's cheek. "Pity you do not do the same for all."

The king stiffened when he watched Thranduil attempt to turn his head away from the Dwarf, but then, his eyes widened in recognition as he looked at his face a bit more carefully. "_You_."

Galin turned his dark eyes to the stunned Elf. "You recognize me now, Oropher?" he asked quietly.

Oropher stared at the dark-bearded Dwarf for a long moment, shaking his head slightly before the anger returned to his gaze. "It was out of my control, Galin," he answered quietly but sternly. "My son has no part in what transpired."

"No," Galin agreed thoughtfully as he looked at the struggling Thranduil. "But he _has _brought me you."

Before Oropher could form a response, another dark-cloaked figure stepped out from the ledge across from him, revealing the light-haired captain Thalion, who appeared just as angry as the king as he twirled his sword once. Then, a third light-haired Elf appeared beside Oropher, instantly concerned when he saw Thranduil was still in danger.

"The other three Dwarves have been caught and bound, _hír-nín_," Aearion announced, casting a pointed glance Galin's way. "They will be tried on the morrow."

Oropher nodded, satisfied with this news, as he met Galin's dark gaze. "Release my son," he repeated, his tone dangerously quiet as he slowly reached for his own sword. "We will give you one more chance to come quietly."

Galin continued to back away from the three Elves with Thranduil, glancing behind him when he felt the cliff drop away beneath his heel. His gaze landed on the rushing water beneath him, and his dark eyes gleamed as he slowly turned back to the king. "And be tried and executed for trespassing in Greenwood all this time and endangering her prince?" he said mockingly. "I think not, Oropher. The punishment for trespassing on your lands would have been severe enough without threatening your son's life."

Thranduil glanced down at the Duilwen River as well, fear gripping his heart when he realized what the Dwarf had in mind. He quickly turned back to his three rescuers, anxiously reaching a hand out to Oropher. "_Ada_, help!" he shouted.

A split second too late, Oropher realized what Galin had planned. "No! Thranduil!" He hurried forward, reaching for the prince's outstretched hand.

But Galin had already jumped, and the king's fingers only brushed against his son's as the Dwarf disappeared over the ledge with the young Elf, both falling into the rushing river below.

**Author's Note**: Um... stress with school = cliffhangers? No? I tried :P Lol! Now that you're ready to strangle me... Haha, I know I'm evil, lol. So close, yet so far! What'll happen next? We'll see! Thanks for reading, guys! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Everyone you don't recognize belong to me.

**Summary**: He was warned to never go to the cursed hill. But when Thranduil disobeys his father's orders to see if the stories are true, a single event from Oropher's past threatens the life of his young son.

**Author's Note**: Hey! We'll keep this short and sweet, lol. I'm glad you guys are liking this story! It means a lot! Thanks so much to **The Pearl Maiden**, **Gwedhiel0117**, **Elven Warrior Princess**, **Doreen**, **DreamingIn2Eternity**, and **dresdenlace** for your reviews. Hope you enjoy this one as well! How will Thranduil fare in his battle against the river? We're about to find out ;)

Elvish:

_hír-nín_- my lord  
><em>ada<em>- father  
><em>ion-nín<em>- my son

_Chapter 4_

The frigidness of the water stunned Thranduil when he and Galin fell beneath the surface, the force of it knocking out the little air that remained in his lungs. The swiftly moving rapids of the Duilwen caused the two small forms to tumble along with the current, and the young Elf fought his way out of the Dwarf's arms before anxiously trying to find his way to the surface. His lungs were burning with the overdue need for breath, and he could not discern which direction was up as he was pushed along by the unforgiving river, which seemed to be working against him.

By some miracle, the prince was pushed upward by a current as he went roughly around a bend, and he forcefully coughed out water as much needed air rushed into his lungs. But Thranduil was soon dragged back under by the same force as he continued to make his way down the river. He was an able swimmer, but the rapids were too powerful, and he found himself in a constant struggle just to be able to get air when he needed it.

Thranduil surfaced again, and he whimpered painfully when he was slammed against a rock as he passed it. Darkness began to cloud his vision, but he quickly shook his head in an attempt to clear it. He needed complete concentration if he was going to keep his head above water.

Suddenly, something wrapped around his ankle, and he gasped as he was pulled beneath the water. Thranduil struggled against what was restraining him, which he now recognized to be a hand, as the rapids pushed them swiftly along, wincing when he felt his ankle twist in the tight hold it was in. He and his assailant clawed and kicked at each other as they fought their way to the surface, and when the hand that had caught him pulled on his long hair to gain an advantage, Thranduil was the second one to push his head out of the water. After taking a couple deep, ragged breaths, he was not too surprised to see Galin glaring back at him.

"Your fate will be mine, wretch!" the dark-bearded Dwarf snapped, raising his voice to be heard over the rushing river. "I will _not _be tried and humiliated in front of your kin! And I can be at peace knowing Oropher has suffered as I have."

Though the last statement was quieter than the others, Thranduil felt dread grip his heart as he struggled to keep from falling beneath the water again. Then, before he realized what was happening, Galin reached a hand out and wrapped it tightly around his throat.

* * *

><p>"<em>Thranduil<em>!"

Oropher stood at the edge of the ledge, his eyes wide with horror as his son and the Dwarf disappeared beneath the water's surface. Why had he not realized what Galin had been intending sooner? He had been so close...

"We will take the path along the river," Aearion said anxiously while Thalion sheathed his sword and hurried toward the small cliff to begin scaling down. "That way, we should catch up with the prince, and-!"

His sentence was abruptly interrupted when Oropher quickly took his sword from its sheath and laid it on the rocky ground beside him before sliding his bow off his shoulder and slipping his quiver off his back. Aearion's eyes widened in horror when he realized what the king was meaning to do when he removed his dark cloak, and he took a step forward to stop him while Thalion reached out for their lord. "Wait-!"

However, Oropher ignored his advisor as he took a deep breath and leapt off the ledge without hesitation. He heard the panicked cries of "_hír-nín_!" and "Oropher!" above him, but all else was lost when he plunged into the dark water. The coldness of it gripped the king's heart as the current carried him swiftly in the same direction it had brought his son, and Oropher gasped for breath when he pushed himself to the surface.

Trying to stay calm, the Elf remained as limp as possible as he was pushed to the outer bend of the river where the rapids were quicker, allowing himself to be moved with the current as he anxiously looked around for his son. "Thranduil!" he shouted, his sharp eyes intent for any sign of his light riding tunic or flash of his fair hair. "Thranduil!"

The only answer he received was the roar of the Duilwen.

Oropher inwardly cursed as he pushed off the side of the riverbank at a violent turn to propel himself forward. Galin and Thranduil should not have been so far ahead. There should have been some sign of either of them by now.

Unless the current had already claimed them.

But the king refused to accept that possibility. He would find his son. There was no other option.

Then, Oropher was suddenly pulled beneath the water's surface by a strong current, the force roughly twisting him in different directions. He struggled against it when it showed no sign of relenting its hold on him, desperately trying to find the way up when his lungs began to burn for air.

Suddenly, Oropher's mouth opened in a silent scream when his left shoulder was slammed against a rock at the bottom of the river, the force pushing it out of its socket. Spots danced tauntingly in front of his eyes as the rest of the air left his lungs, and the crown adorning his fair head was rushed away as the king was limply pulled along through the dark water. His vision began to fade, and the last thing Oropher saw was soft moonlight penetrating the surface above him.

* * *

><p>Startled, Thranduil grabbed the Dwarf's hand that had clamped tightly onto his neck as he struggled to stay above the surface. Galin grinned despite the water that was splashing forcefully in his face as he and the prince were swept swiftly through the rough rapids, barely managing to keep his head up as well.<p>

"Please..." Thranduil gasped quietly, shutting his eyes as he continued to try to force the hand from his throat. The battle against the Duilwen was enough. He would never survive fighting the Dwarf as well. "Stop..."

But Galin only chuckled at his pleas. "I truly am sorry, prince," he said. "You had no part in this. But it is your father who-!"

What the dark-bearded Dwarf was going to say about his father, Thranduil would never know. A sudden current pulled them both beneath the surface, and he felt Galin's hand loosen ever so slightly. The prince desperately tried to pull away though the force of the river was pushing him closer to the Dwarf, but his fingers were still too tight.

Then, they were roughly pushed into the riverbank, the impact causing Galin to be ripped away from Thranduil. The young Elf tumbled through the violent current toward the middle of the river, and he desperately gasped for breath as he broke the surface. He quickly looked around him as he blinked the water out of his eyes, seeing the Dwarf was nowhere in sight.

Thranduil's heart raced when he saw a large rock looming ahead of him, and he anxiously reached out, sighing with relief when he felt his hands grasp the slick surface. He was nearly ripped away by the force of the rapids, but he clenched his jaw tightly as he fought the current and pulled himself closer to the rock, closing his eyes when his arms wrapped around it. The young Elf held onto it tightly, taking a few deep breaths for air. He was unsure how long he would be able to hold onto the rock, but he would at least be able to rest for a few moments to recover some much needed strength.

"Help! Help me!"

Startled, Thranduil gasped as he opened his eyes and glanced behind him, seeing Galin had grabbed onto a thick tree root protruding out from the outer bend not too far away from him. For the first time, there was fear in the Dwarf's dark eyes at the prospect of meeting a watery grave.

"Please!" Galin added desperately when he saw he had the prince's attention. "Help me!"

Thranduil immediately turned away from the Dwarf again, his eyes narrowing angrily. Why should he aid him? Galin was the one responsible for taking him captive, he had inflicted pain on him, he was the reason he was clinging to the rock like a lifeline in the middle of the river. He had even clearly said he wished for him to meet the same end. He deserved what was coming to him.

But then, Thranduil's hard expression softened slightly. His father, though stern, was a righteous king, his decisions just. It was something he had instilled into him since he could recall. If brought to Greenwood, Galin would be faced with a fair trial, and the punishment would be suitable. To allow the Duilwen to claim him would be almost criminal.

Though it was against his better judgement, Thranduil made sure one arm was wrapped securely around the rock before he turned back to Galin, reaching his other hand out to him. "Take my hand!" he called out.

Surprise crossed Galin's heavily-bearded face at the action. "You... you give me your aid?" he asked. "After all I did?"

Thranduil noticed the root bending under the Dwarf's weight and the strength of the river and sighed with frustration. There was no time to waste. "Just take my hand!" he repeated urgently, stretching his arm out a little further to get as close as he could to his former captor.

Realizing the root wouldn't hold much longer, Galin nodded as he pushed himself away from the riverbank, reaching a hand out toward the prince's outstretched one. Thranduil nodded encouragingly, trying to reach just a bit further as well. His breath caught in his chest when the Dwarf's fingers brushed against his.

"A little further!" he told him.

Galin took a deep breath and threw his arm out, his fingers wrapping around the young Elf's hand as he released the root. Thranduil clenched his jaw tightly and shut his eyes, nearly being torn away from the rock at the sudden weight as the current rushed past him. But by some miracle, he had kept his hold on the Dwarf's hand and his arm securely around the rock to keep them both from going with it.

"Hold on!" Thranduil braced himself as he slowly pulled Galin toward him, the Dwarf helping to fight against the rapids. Once he was a bit closer, he reached his other hand out toward the rock so he could hold onto it as the prince was doing.

Suddenly, a vicious current swept past them, pulling Thranduil beneath the river's surface for a short moment. He coughed when he got his head above it again, somehow managing to hold onto the rock. But his eyes widened in horror when Galin's hand was ripped from his, watching as the Dwarf disappeared beneath the water. He anxiously scanned the dark rapids for any sign of him, but he saw none. He was gone.

Shaking due to the strain he had put his body through and the wind that was biting into his drenched skin, Thranduil wrapped his other arm around the rock again, hot tears that were escaping from his eyes mingling with the cold water dripping down his face. In his weakened state, the prince wasn't sure how long he would be able to hold onto the rock before the current claimed him as well. Would his father, Aearion, and Thalion find him by then? Would they pull him out, or would he also be lost in the Duilwen's depths by the time they reached him?

Hoping for some sort of reassurance, Thranduil looked around at the dark trees on either side of the river, praying he would see the three Elves who had come to rescue him from Amon Sereg running along the path toward him. But he did not see them.

Not knowing what else to do, Thranduil turned his panicked gaze up to the sky above him. It was mostly covered with clouds, though the moon's soft rays managed to escape and light the night at least a little. He then smiled slightly when he saw a few stars in a gap between the dark clouds, the sight of them filling him with a sense of peace.

But as soon as they were hidden from sight, dread once again gained prominence in the prince's heart, and Thranduil felt a quiet sob escape from him as he shut his eyes, holding onto the rock as tightly as he could. The icy temperature of the water along with the usually soft wind was almost numbing, and he knew then it would not be long before he would be swept away again. And with his waning strength, he was uncertain of how much longer he could fight the current.

"_Ada_!" Thranduil desperately cried out, hoping his father would somehow be close enough to hear him over the roaring of the river. "_Ada_!"

He listened for a moment, his ears straining for any hint of his father's deep, timbre voice, comforting him and assuring him he was safe. Then, for an instant, he thought he heard that familiar voice he longed for call his name above the sound of the swiftly moving rapids, but he realized it must have only been a trick of his mind since it was not heard a second time.

A few more sobs shaking his small frame, Thranduil clung to the rock as the current nearly pulled him away from it before lessoning slightly. His voice trembling, he feebly called out for his father one more time, though he knew it would not be heard.

"_Ada_..."

* * *

><p>Somehow, Oropher managed to gain his senses enough to kick off from the riverbank at his side, the force enough to push him to the surface. He gasped for breath and coughed as water violently left his lungs, but then he winced when pain gripped his left shoulder, finding he was hardly able to move it. However, he was no healer, and a dislocated shoulder was the least of his concerns.<p>

But as he continued to get swept along, the king found fighting the river's current was more difficult in his weakened state as he was pulled under more frequently, and he was unable to make his way back to the surface with as much ease as before. If he did nothing, the rapids would claim him before he found Thranduil, and if he did find his son, he did not know how he could get him to safety with his arm in this condition.

Reluctantly, Oropher quickly looked around as he was pulled toward the middle of the river, reaching out with his right arm and grabbing onto a good-sized rock. Wincing, he slowly pulled himself onto it, lying on his back and closing his eyes as he allowed his weary body a moment's rest since it had still not completely recovered from nearly drowning. But his left shoulder was throbbing as a burning pain began to spread from it, and he pushed himself into a sitting position. He stared intently at the swiftly moving water on either side of him as he held onto his shoulder, focusing on slowing his breathing to prepare for what he now had to do.

There was a moment's hesitation, and Oropher held his breath as he pushed down and inward on his shoulder. He fought back a cry as it was forced back into place, and he felt his face drain of color as his vision faded slightly. The king shook his head a little in attempt to clear it as he rolled his left shoulder out to regain its mobility, taking a few quick but deep breaths. Though most of the pain had left it, it was still a bit stiff, and he realized he hadn't put it back in properly. But setting it in place would be a task for the healers once they returned to Greenwood, for he had greater concerns to deal with.

"_Ada_!"

Oropher quickly raised his gaze from his shoulder when he thought he heard his son's frightened voice, quickly scanning the dark rapids ahead of him for any sign of him. For a moment, he believed it only to be a trick of his mind and the pain and weakness assaulting him. But when he heard it a second time, just as clear and desperate as the first, he knew immediately it was not some trick.

"Thranduil!" he shouted, slipping back into the frigid, rushing current and allowing himself to be pulled along. The king struggled to keep his head above the water as the rough rapids threatened to claim him, searching for any sign of the owner of the voice he knew nearly as well as his own. He would have called out for him again, but the coldness of the Duilwen compressed his lungs and made yelling difficult. It was probably too soon for his body to handle the violent force of the current, but his concern was for his son.

A third weaker cry urged Oropher forward as we went around another bend, and his eyes widened at the sight before him. Thranduil was clinging to a rock in the middle of the river, his eyes shut tightly as he attempted to fight the current. He was shaking slightly, but from what, the king was unsure of. But all that mattered to him was he had found him.

Oropher began to swim along with the rushing rapids to reach his son sooner, ignoring the stiffness in his left shoulder. "Thranduil!" he called out, hoping his voice would carry over the roar of the river. "_Ion-nín_!"

He sighed with relief when Thranduil quickly opened his eyes and anxiously looked around, his panicked gaze finally landing on him. His face lit up with recognition. "_Ada_!"

"Hold on, Thranduil!" Oropher told him, continuing to push himself forward.

Thranduil nodded, reaching a hand out to him once he got closer. Oropher reached his right hand out toward him as he neared the rock, his fingers brushing against his son's before he wrapped his hand around his.

Suddenly, a particularly violent current rushed past them, and Oropher's eyes widened with horror when the prince was ripped away from him. His son's fearful cry faded away as the king was slammed against the rock that had previously been Thranduil's stronghold, and he quietly groaned when his left shoulder throbbed painfully from the impact.

But then, still holding onto the rock, Oropher quickly looked around for any sign of the younger Elf in the churning water. "_Thranduil_!" he yelled anxiously, hoping he would hear him.

Then, his heart skipped a beat when he saw a flash of light hair a short distance ahead of him as his son's head briefly broke the surface before going back under, and without hesitation, Oropher pushed himself away from the rock. He instantly realized how Thranduil hadn't gotten too far ahead when he was forcefully pulled under by the same current, and finding the difficulty of getting himself back to the surface, he instead pushed himself forward under the water to reach the dark form being pulled along ahead of him. Once he was near enough, the king reached out with his right hand, praying it would meet its mark.

Relief swarmed through him when his ringed fingers wrapped around soft fabric that he recognized to be his son's riding tunic. Oropher reached his left arm out, though it did not have as much mobility, and wrapped it around Thranduil's small frame as he pulled him close. When the oppressive current over them lessened slightly, he pushed them to the surface for a much needed breath, ensuring the prince's head was also above water.

However, fear gripped the king's heart when he saw his son's face was pale and his eyes were closed as his head rested limply on his shoulder. "Th... Thranduil..." he murmured.

But before he could look the young Elf over more thoroughly, Oropher gasped when a powerful undercurrent pulled them beneath the surface again. He held Thranduil tightly to his chest in a protective way as they were roughly brought further down the river and twisted and pulled in every direction. He was unsure how much longer his weakened body could deal with the rapids' wrath, and he was still greatly concerned for his son. Somehow, he needed to get them out before he no longer had the strength to do so.

Once the current calmed slightly, Oropher pushed off from the bottom of the river, the force enough to send him and Thranduil to the surface. He coughed as water left his lungs, taking a few deep breaths as he anxiously searched for something he could use to pull them out of the river. He saw their chance in the form of a thick tree root protruding from the riverbank on their left, and clenching his jaw tightly, the king held his son securely in his left arm while he fought against the powerful current with the other as he made his way toward it.

They drew nearer, and Oropher reached his hand out to grab the root that would hopefully prove to be their salvation. But his fingers merely brushed it before the current, almost tauntingly, increased a little, pushing him back from it a bit. The king was relentless, however, and he nearly cried out as he forced himself forward, sighing with relief when his right hand wrapped securely around the root. He pulled himself closer to the riverbank and began to lift Thranduil up onto the grass, wincing when his stiff shoulder protested to the straining movement. But his son's safety was the only thing that mattered to him, and he ignored the pain until the young Elf was entirely out of the river.

Oropher then sank back into the rushing current, keeping a tight hold on the root so he would not be swept away as attempted to catch his breath. The little strength that had remained in his weakened body was depleted, his shoulder was inflamed with pain, and his vision was beginning to dim. He was exhausted, and the frigid river was providing a comfortable numbing feeling. All he wanted to do was sleep. A more powerful current rushed past, and the king gasped as he was nearly pulled away from the root. But somehow, he managed to hang on even when he was forced under the water for a brief moment.

But as he broke the surface again, Oropher's eyes widened. _Thranduil_. He may have gotten his son out of the river, but the paleness of his face had concerned him. He had to reach his son.

Clenching his jaw tightly, the king pulled himself along the root until he was closer to the bank. He reached up, and despite how his body protested the use of strength he did not have, Oropher slowly dragged himself out of the Duilwen and onto solid ground. He lay on the grass for a moment, gasping for breath, before pushing himself to his knees and turning to the young Elf beside him.

"Thranduil!"

The prince had not moved from the position he had been set on the riverbank, lying on his stomach with his face turned away from him. Oropher moved as quickly as he could to him, setting his hands lightly on his arms and gently turning him over onto his back in case of injury. He brushed the soaked fair hair out of his son's face, and his breath caught in his chest at the sight.

Thranduil's face was now deathly pale since the healthy glow had fled from it, his eyes were still closed, and his lips had taken on a faint shade of blue.

"No..." Oropher whispered, anxiously running his fingers over the cold skin of Thranduil's cheek. He then placed his hand on his son's chest as he leaned down close to his mouth, desperately hoping for some sign of life. But dread gripped his heart when he found his worst fears to be confirmed.

Thranduil was not breathing.

**Author's Note**: So, uh... this is apparently my favorite cliffhanger to use in my stories. *smiles innocently* Poor Thranduil. Oropher too! What'll happen next? Well, we'll have to find out, lol! Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Everyone you don't recognize belong to me.

**Summary**: He was warned to never go to the cursed hill. But when Thranduil disobeys his father's orders to see if the stories are true, a single event from Oropher's past threatens the life of his young son.

**Author's Note**: Hello! Sorry about the slight delay, lol. School has been taking up most of my time. But anyway, thank you to **The Pearl Maiden**, **Gwedhiel0117**, **dresdenlace**, **doreen**, **DreamingIn2Eternity**, and **Elven Warrior Princess** for your reviews! I'm glad you enjoyed that last, very tense chapter. And after that what I've put these poor Elves through and that cliffhanger, let's see what happens, shall we? **Gwed**, I know you've been waiting for this one, lol (and thanks for the input with the info, by the way!). Enjoy, everybody!

Elvish:

_ion-nín_- my son  
><em>ada<em>- father  
><em>goheno nín<em>- forgive me  
><em>tithen pen<em>- little one  
><em>penneth<em>- young one  
><em>hír-nín<em>- my lord  
><em>hannon le<em>- thank you  
><em>mellon-nín<em>- my friend

_Chapter 5_

Oropher's heart nearly stopped as he looked down on his seemingly lifeless son. "No..."

Thinking quickly, he gently tilted Thranduil's head back and placed his mouth over his, breathing into him before pushing down on his chest. "Come on, Thranduil," he muttered after giving him air a second time when there was still no response. He could not lose his son too. It did not matter to him how much of his own nearly exhausted strength he had to put into the Elfling, he would live. "Breathe, _ion-nín_..."

After a few more desperate repetitions, Oropher paused when Thranduil's body jerked, and he quickly turned the young Elf on his side when he began violently coughing up water as it forcefully left his lungs. The king kept a tight hand on Thranduil's arm, rubbing his back to provide some comfort when he flinched away from his touch.

"It is all right, Thranduil," he said gently as his son gasped for breath. "I am here, _ion-nín_."

A moment passed before Thranduil looked back up at him, recognizing the familiar deep voice immediately. Tears filled his blue eyes as he turned onto his back, coughing a couple more times. "I... I'm sorry, _Ada_..." he replied weakly. "_G-Goheno nín..._"

Oropher's eyes narrowed slightly for a moment before he smiled, resting his hand lightly on Thranduil's cheek. "I am just grateful you are alive, _tithen pen_."

When the young Elf closed his eyes as he attempted to slow his breathing, the king looked Thranduil over closely to try and assess what had been done to his son while in Galin's captivity. His gaze smoldered when he saw his split bottom lip and the light bruise on his cheek, and it only increased when his eyes landed on the rusted cuffs around his thin wrists. They had restrained him.

Oropher pulled the small knife out of his boot, the one weapon he hadn't discarded at Amon Sereg, and his gaze saddened when Thranduil looked at it with a flicker of fear. "Stay still," he told him. His son nodded, and the king carefully worked the thin blade into the joint of the cuff, not taking long for it to come free. He did the same with the second and tossed them both away before sliding the knife back into his boot.

Thranduil watched his father for a moment before quickly sitting up, wrapping his arms around his neck tightly and burying his face into his right shoulder as his unshed tears finally fell unrestrained. His pride was forgotten, but at that moment, he did not mind Oropher was seeing him cry after all he had endured. He was simply relieved that he was now in the arms he had so longed for.

The king pulled the young Elf's shaking frame close and held him protectively against him, a thin line of tears forming in his own eyes as he ran his ringed fingers soothingly through his son's soaked fair hair. "Shh, _ion-nín_," Oropher whispered, closing his eyes to force back his tears. "It is all right, Thranduil. It is over." His son nodded in response, but his tears continued to fall as a quiet sob escaped from him.

Oropher was unsure how long he and Thranduil knelt on the riverbank, holding each other securely, before the Elfling's tears finally slowed. However, the king was concerned when his small frame continued to tremble. Whether from weakness or the cold from being drenched, he was unsure. Either way, they had to return to Greenwood with haste.

"Are you able to walk, Thranduil?" he asked quietly.

Thranduil slowly rose his head from his father's shoulder, hesitance etched on his pale face. "I-I know not, _Ada_," he answered, wiping the remains of his tears away. "I-I turned my ankle when Galin grabbed it in the river..." His statement slowly trailed off before his eyes widened almost fearfully. "_A-Ada_, I tried to help him. B-But I could not. I-I was not strong enough."

Oropher's anger at the pain inflicted on his son by the Dwarf's hand instantly drained away when confusion took its place. "What do you mean, _penneth_?" he wondered.

"I-I tried to save him from the current," Thranduil explained, his gaze saddening. "I-I thought if he was brought to Greenwood, h-his fate would be just. B-but I could not..."

The king gazed at his distressed son sadly, running his fingers through his hair once more in effort to console him. "You were very brave, Thranduil," he told him, resting his hand on the side of his head as he brushed his thumb lightly over his tear-stained cheek. "Do not dwell on what was beyond your control."

Thranduil gazed into his father's pale face for a long moment, searching for reassurance before he rested his head wearily on the king's shoulder. Oropher looked down on him with concern before he took a deep breath, slowly rising to his feet. He held back a cry when his stiff left shoulder protested as he supported his son, a burning pain spreading through his back and down the rest of his arm from the strain.

Startled by how his father's body tensed, Thranduil quickly looked up, horrified to see the color quickly leaving Oropher's face as clear exhaustion appeared in his expression when he tightly closed his eyes. Had he been injured when he leapt into the river after him? "_A-Ada_?"

Oropher opened his eyes as he attempted to slow his quick breathing, forcing a smile to reassure his son. "I am all right, Thranduil," he said, though he could tell the Elfling did not accept his words. "Do not be concerned for me, _ion-nín_."

Thranduil continued to look at his father with worry as Oropher slowly began walking along the river in the direction of Amon Sereg. Though his face was impassive, the young Elf could feel the slight waver in the king's step, could hear his labored breathing, could see the pain in his eyes he was attempting to hide. Guilt immediately gripped Thranduil's heart. His father was wounded, all because he had deliberately disobeyed his order. Oropher did not deserve that. Not able to even look into his face anymore, Thranduil rested his head on his right shoulder again, his eyes slowly closing as they continued on their way.

His son's light albeit slightly shallow breathing alerted Oropher that he had fallen asleep, but Thranduil's closed eyes and the way his small form still trembled a bit in his arms concerned him. He was unsure how long he had slowly been walking toward Amon Sereg, but the king found each step he took was more difficult than the last. Being at the mercy of the Duilwen had left his body weakened. His legs felt heavy, and the constant burning pain spreading from his shoulder assaulted his senses. His breath did not come without effort, his vision was starting to fade, but he pressed on. He needed to be strong for Thranduil.

Then, Oropher slowed to a stop, his light eyes narrowing slightly when the sound of approaching hoofbeats reached his ears. A moment later, two horses came into view, a few more being led along behind them, and he instantly recognized Aearion and Thalion. He attempted to take a step closer to them, but his exhaustion had finally caught up to him. His strength depleted, Oropher stumbled, holding Thranduil close to his chest in a protective way as he dropped to his knees.

"Oropher!"

"_Hír-nín_!"

Aearion and Thalion stopped their horses a short distance away before leaping to the ground and running toward them, but the king hardly noticed. His pained shoulder was now throbbing in time with his racing heart, his vision darkening. When the two light-haired Elves approached them, the king attempted to give them a small smile.

"Take... Thranduil," he murmured before his eyes closed.

Thalion quickly took Thranduil from his loose grasp before Oropher wavered, falling forward into Aearion's unsuspecting arms. The advisor looked down on his king and friend with horror when he saw how pale his face was, feeling his shallow breathing.

"_Oropher_!"

* * *

><p><em>He was submerged in the frigid water being roughly pulled along with the river's current as he was twisted in every direction. He struggled to find his way to the surface, unable to tell which direction it was in the dark. His lungs burned for air. He was sinking... drowning...<em>

Thranduil cried out as his eyes snapped open, his panicked gaze moving around the darkness. He moved to sit up but was startled when he felt his arms and legs were trapped. A second desperate cry escaped from him as he struggled in the force that was confining him, finding he was unable to escape.

Then, the dim light from what appeared to be a candle appeared before him, and Thranduil stopped his fighting with confusion. The light moved closer before it was set on what he now saw was a small table beside him, and he quickly glanced down at his arms and legs, seeing they were simply tangled in a blanket. He was in a bed. He was safe.

A gentle hand landed on his shoulder before a second ran through his hair, and the prince found himself looking into a familiar face framed by light hair. "Beriana?"

The healer, mother of Erynion and Helinniel, smiled down on him. "It is all right, _tithen pen_," she said soothingly. "Rest now."

Thranduil took a deep, steadying breath, but instead of heeding her words, he started sitting up more. Instantly, he winced when his midsection protested painfully to the action.

"Slowly, Thranduil," Beriana cautioned, watching the Elfling with a disapproving eye. "A couple of your ribs are bruised. You will feel discomfort for a time, but fortunately, the damage is not severe."

This time, Thranduil listened to the healer as he slowly made his way up to a sitting position. His head was feeling a bit heavy, and he realized the herbs she must have given him for pain and sleep were wearing off. He did a quick assessment, feeling a dull pain in his right ankle as well as a tenderness in his left arm, which fortunately were both only minor ailments.

"I will prepare some more pain reducing herbs for you," Beriana muttered as though she knew what was on his mind. She rose from the bed to stand before the small table she had set the candle on, a smile appearing on her face when she saw the wary look the prince was giving her. "Do not fret. I will not give you anymore sleeping herbs unless you request them."

Feeling reassured, Thranduil sighed as he leaned back against the wooden headboard. But then, his eyes widened slightly when he saw the bed on the other side of the healer, recognizing the figure in it immediately in the faint moonlight. "_Ada_!"

Beriana looked up when the prince leapt from his bed, hurrying as quick as his turned ankle would allow to the second occupied one in the healing ward. "_Penneth_!"

But Thranduil paid no heed as he stopped beside the bed, his gaze saddening when he looked his father over carefully. Oropher was lying very still with his eyes closed, his face, though with more color than it had before, still a few shades too light and void of expression. He was wearing a simple, light gray shirt while his fair hair, now dried, was pulled into a ponytail behind his head, his left arm supported by a sling.

"I had to administer a more potent dose of sleeping herbs, though I was hesitant to do so," Beriana explained as she stood beside the prince. "He exerted more strength than his body had to give, but I did not want to risk him waking while I reset his shoulder."

Thranduil felt guilt grip his heart as he slowly reached forward and took Oropher's right ringed hand in his, remembering all that his father had done to deliver him from the river's current. The king's shoulder had been out of place, he sacrificed his strength, all for him. The prince only realized tears had formed in his eyes when he felt them on his cheeks. He did not deserve what his father had suffered for him, not after what he had done.

"This is my fault," Thranduil murmured, his voice shaking slightly. "If I had only listened..." His statement trailed off when more tears fell from his eyes.

Beriana lightly set her hands on his shoulders before slowly enfolding him in her arms in a consoling manner. Having known him since his birth, she had long since considered the prince as another child of her own. "He did what any father would have done for their child," she told him when Thranduil raised his tear-filled gaze to her face. "You are young, _tithen pen_. You will make mistakes, but it is how you handle them that matters." She paused as she wiped a few of his tears away. "My children followed you to that outpost, so you are not the only one at fault. But what's done is done, there is no changing it."

Thranduil looked at the healer for another long moment before he slowly nodded, his tears slowly stopping as he turned back to his father. However, her words did not console him. Erynion and Helinniel may have gone with him, as had Calanon, but they did not have to see their parents in the healing ward due to that mistake. Beriana gave him a small smile before she released him and held a small bowl out to him. "Here," she said gently.

"_Hannon le_." Thranduil absently took the bowl and slowly sipped the semi-sweet liquid, finishing it before handing it back to the healer. He moved his gaze from his father to Beriana as she moved back to the small table beside his own bed. "May I stay with him?" The prince knew he had no need to remain in the healing ward, but he could not bring himself to leave his father.

Beriana turned back to him, and for the first time, Thranduil could see the slight exhaustion that crossed her features in the soft candlelight. He wondered how long she had been tending to them. "Aye," she finally conceded, giving him another smile. "I will not be far. Alert me to any changes in his condition."

Thranduil nodded as he returned the smile. "Take some rest, Beriana," he replied. When the healer left the room with the candle, he turned back to Oropher.

"I am so sorry, _Ada_," he whispered, raising the hand that was not wrapped around the king's and brushed his fingers lightly over his cool forehead. Oropher did not respond.

Sighing, Thranduil released the older Elf's hand and slowly limped around the bed, climbing up onto it and lying close to Oropher's right side. He had not done this for years, though he felt it was necessary now. Not only for his own comfort, but for his need to make amends with his father.

Thranduil was unsure how much time had passed since he had lay beside the king, simply watching the slight rise and fall of his chest, before Oropher began to stir. The prince raised himself up on one arm, looking into his father's slightly distressed face as he moved toward consciousness for a moment before he set his hand lightly on his arm. "_Ada_," he said softly. "_Ada_."

Oropher turned his head in the direction of the quiet voice before his eyes slowly opened, landing on his son's face. His gaze took a moment to clear from the influence of the sleep inducing herbs he had been given, but a small smile appeared on his face when he saw the Elfling looking back at him with concern. "Thranduil," he muttered, setting his hand lightly on his cheek. "Are you all right, _ion-nín_?"

The prince's gaze faltered. After all that had happened, Oropher was wondering about _him_? "Aye, _Ada_," he said. "It is you I am concerned about."

The king smiled slightly as he slowly sat up and leaned back against the headboard. He turned his gaze to his left arm supported by the sling, gently rotating his shoulder a little. There was still some pain, but it had greatly faded, and most of its mobility had returned. "Do not be concerned for me, Thranduil," he replied quietly, turning his gaze to his son when he sat up beside him. "I will be fine. I have suffered more grievous injuries."

Thranduil still could not bring himself to meet his father's gaze. "'Tis not the same, _Ada_." He paused, despising the weakness in his tone. "This is my fault." He respected Beriana's words, but he could not quell the guilt in his heart.

Oropher looked at his son for a long moment, able to clearly see the turmoil and the regret in his youthful features. His gaze saddening, he slowly reached forward with his free hand and gently tilted Thranduil's face toward him so he would meet his eyes. "Do not place the blame on yourself when there is no need, _penneth_," he told him, unfazed by the surprise on the Elfling's face. "Aye, you disobeyed me, but you did not know Galin was at Amon Sereg." He hesitated for a moment before forcing a small smile on his face. "The fault for the injuries I obtained is my own. If I had listened to Aearion and not leapt into the river after you, I would not be in the healing ward now. Though there may have been a gravely different outcome."

When Thranduil said nothing, Oropher lowered his hand. "I do believe my order to not return to that place is unnecessary," he added, his tone lightening a bit.

Realizing his father truly was not angry at him, a smile appeared on Thranduil's face as he nodded. "Aye, _Ada_," he agreed.

Oropher chuckled quietly, holding his right arm out to his son. Thranduil quickly moved into his father's embrace, resting his head on his chest and finding the sound of his strong, steady heartbeat comforting. The king absently ran his ringed fingers through the Elfling's hair as he sighed, too relieved his son had survived the river's wrath to remain angry with him. He had been too close to losing him to dwell on those feelings, and his lesson had clearly been learned. The only one who still faced his fury was Galin, and he knew the current claiming him had been merciful compared to what he wished he could have done.

However, it was not long before the door to the healing ward forcefully opened, and Oropher and Thranduil looked up in time to see Aearion enter, a protesting Beriana behind him. "Please, you must allow them to rest..."

Though the advisor did not listen as he crossed the room and stood before the bed, his smoldering eyes on the king. "Were you not thinking?" Aearion demanded, ignoring the healer when she took his arm. "I beg your pardon, Oropher, but what if the river had claimed you as it nearly did? What would have been left for Greenwood and your people? Your recklessness nearly cost them their king!"

A hint of an amused smirk curled up the corner of Oropher's lips as he gazed steadily back at his long-time friend when he noticed the look of shock on Beriana's face at the advisor's lack of courtesy. Thranduil grinned broadly at the display, knowing he was only concerned about his father. No one else would have survived speaking to the king in such a manner. "There is still breath left in me, is there not, Aearion?" he countered. "I am fine, _mellon-nín_, do not fret." He paused, glancing down at Thranduil. "I did what I had to."

Aearion watched them for a moment before he sighed heavily, his hard gaze softening. "I nearly witnessed my truest friend and his son drown," he muttered, taking a couple steps closer to the bed when Beriana released his arm. "I do believe some concern would be appropriate."

Oropher nodded his agreement when the advisor sat on the bed beside them. He then took his arm from around Thranduil and grasped his friend's hand in assurance. The two fair-haired Elves shared a smile before the young prince leaned across his father to wrap his arms around Aearion in an embrace. Beriana smiled slightly as Thranduil then began to tell them both what had happened while he had been in the Duilwen with Galin in a slightly exaggerated fashion before she stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

* * *

><p>All was still in the vast study save the occasional quiet <em>clink<em> the wine glass made as it was set back on the desk. Oropher leaned back in his cushioned chair after he took another sip of the cool red wine, lowering the glass near his knee as he swirled the liquid a bit before he set it back on the desk beside his crown. The palace's smiths had crafted him a replacement once it was discovered his other had been lost in the river, but he only wore it when it was necessary since it was a bit too small. Another would have to be made.

The king moved his light eyes over the paperwork that needed to be seen to as well as the book he had attempted to read before setting that aside as well. His focus that evening was not at its best. It had taken a couple days after the incident at Amon Sereg for Oropher to recover the full use of his left arm, and after keeping the three Dwarves they had apprehended locked in their prisons for that time, they were able to hold their trial. Their crimes were severe, trespassing in their realm as well as endangering the life of her prince, and the only suitable punishment that had been agreed upon was death. Thranduil had been present for the trial, but Oropher sent him away before their sentences could be carried out.

Oropher's light, weary eyes then moved up when there was a timid knock at the door, and he reached for his crown. "Enter," he said with authority, struggling a bit to get the silver circlet to fit on his fair head.

The door opened, and Oropher paused when he saw who stepped inside. "Oh, Thranduil," he muttered with a slight, albeit relieved, smile, setting his crown back in its proper place on the desk beside his neglected paperwork. "What may I do for you, _ion-nín_?" He noticed his son's circlet was also missing since it had been made a bit too large for his head.

Thranduil returned the smile as he shut the door behind him before crossing the room and sitting down on the couch beside his father's desk. His light tunic bore a few water stains, and the king knew he had just finished helping the cooks clean the kitchens after the lunch hour, as to his punishment for the next few weeks. Oropher regarded him for a long moment as the prince sat in silence, able to tell his mind was burdened down by the day's events.

"Is everything all right, _penneth_?" he finally asked, breaking the silence between them.

"Aye, _Ada_," Thranduil answered, moving his gaze up to the king's at the sound of his deep voice. He sighed, his hands fidgeting on his lap.

Oropher raised an eyebrow. "Somehow, I am not certain I believe that," he muttered, watching the Elfling carefully.

"I apologize, _Ada_," Thranduil replied, to which Oropher's eyes narrowed with concern. His son's formal demeanor was unusual, though it was something he had noticed in the prince since the incident.

When the king said nothing more, clearly waiting for him to continue, Thranduil sighed again as he lowered his gaze. "I wished to speak with you," he said quietly. "About Galin."

Oropher nodded slightly, wondering when Thranduil would come to him with this matter. "You need not worry yourself with Galin, _ion-nín_."

Thranduil met the king's gaze, and Oropher could see this had been on his mind for some time. "Galin told me some things, _Ada_," he stated.

"What did he tell you?" Oropher wondered.

The prince's light eyes flickered nervously, unsure of where to begin or how to approach this matter without offending his father. "He said you did not give him your aid when you told him you would," he explained cautiously. "He leapt into the river with me since my death would mean your suffering. His hatred of you runs deep." Thranduil paused for a moment. "What happened, _Ada_? Why is his hate so strong?"

Oropher sighed as he leaned forward on his desk, though his light gaze remained steady. "As I have told Galin on more than one occasion since the incident, what happened was beyond my control," he told him, his tone grave. "The Dwarves of Nogrod were involved in a conflict with a group of Men hailing from Dor-lómin who were drawing too near their territory. They would not leave peacefully, and when the time came, Galin was sent as a messenger to request my assistance. I granted it since if these Men were not checked, they could prove threat to us by later encroaching on our lands also. We have been at odds with them for some time.

"But we were... delayed the night we were set to leave. The violent conflict was over before I was able to reach the Blue Mountains with our forces. The casualties on both sides were numerous, and the Men had fled, though among the dead was Galin's eldest son. He has never forgiven me."

"It was not your fault!" Thranduil stared at his father with horror when his account ended. "You went to aid him."

"Aye, I did," Oropher agreed thoughtfully, absently running a fingertip over the rim of his wine glass. "But it was not enough. Our delay cost him his son's life. I cannot begrudge him that." The king paused, his gaze saddening slightly. "Mayhap now he can find some peace."

Thranduil lowered his gaze once more, realizing now where Galin's hatred of him and his father had stemmed from. It made sense to him why the Dwarf had wanted him claimed by the river as well since Oropher would have suffered the same anguish. But then, his eyes narrowed slightly as he looked back at him. "What delayed you, _Ada_?" he asked.

Oropher's light eyes met his son's curious ones, and Thranduil could see the troubled look in them before a smile appeared on his face. However, the prince noticed it did not quite reach his eyes. "It is over, _penneth_," he murmured. "Nothing you need to fret over." He rose a ringed hand before the Elfling could protest. "Run along, Thranduil. You have a couple hours of daylight left for you and your friends to cause some sort of trouble, I am sure."

Realizing the conversation was over, Thranduil sighed as he nodded before he rose to his feet. At least he now had more understanding of why he had nearly lost his life. But he paused when he reached the door, turning back to his father. "_Hannon le_," he said with a slight smile when he saw Oropher's questioning gaze. "For coming for me. It was seeing you on that ledge that gave me the idea to tell the Dwarves the story of Amon Sereg to unnerve them."

The king's eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you mean, Thranduil?" he wondered.

Thranduil turned to completely face him. "When Galin was speaking to me, I saw you on the ledge just out of the firelight," he replied. "The Dwarves grew uneasy, so I used the story. I would not have thought of it had I not seen you."

However, Oropher slowly shook his head. "We did not step onto the ledge until you were finished with your story," he told him.

The smile vanished from Thranduil's face. "You did not?" The king shook his head again in confirmation. "Then what...?" He remembered the dark-cloaked figure he had seen which, until that moment, he had believed was his father.

Oropher shrugged a bit as he picked up the top sheet of paperwork he needed to complete in the next couple days. "I know not, _ion-nín_," he said. "But I _do _know I have to start seeing to these trade agreements. I will see you at dinner."

Thranduil nodded, not seeing the slight smirk that appeared on his father's face as he turned and hurriedly left the study. Before the door could close completely, another hand caught it as a taller figure entered the room.

"By Thranduil's rapid departure, I assume you told him the figure he saw on the ledge was not you?" Aearion asked with a slight smile on his face as he shut the door behind him.

Oropher glanced up at his advisor, chuckling quietly. "It is harmless," he answered off-handedly as he reached for his quill and ink. Unfortunately, the trade agreements truly had to be seen to. "A tad more assurance that he will not return to Amon Sereg."

Aearion shook his head slightly as he approached the desk, his smile lingering. "Do you believe he will figure it out?" he pressed.

"I am certain of it," Oropher replied, passing his hand over his face as he read over the points of the agreement. "After all, Aearion. It is merely a story."

**Author's Note**: Though things have definitely wound down, there is still going to be one more update. So this isn't quite over yet. But yay, some answers have been brought to the surface! That's a good thing, right? Lol! Anyway, the next update is practically ready for posting, but there are just some fine tunings I need to see to. So, hopefully it'll be up soon! Thanks for reading! Your reviews are appreciated. Thank you!


	6. Epilogue

**Disclaimer**: Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Everyone you do not recognize belong to me.

**Summary**: He was warned to never go to the cursed hill. But when Thranduil disobeys his father's orders to see if the stories are true, a single event from Oropher's past threatens the life of his young son.

**Author's Note**: Hey, so here we are with the last chapter, what I like to affectionately call, "the epilogue." Thanks so much to **The Pearl Maiden**, **Elven Warrior Princess**, **gginsc**, **Gwedhiel0117**, and **Doreen** for all the support of this story! You guys are amazing, and I'm glad that you enjoyed it so much. Before I continue, however, an extra special and deserved shout-out goes to **Gwedhiel0117** and her fantastic Oropher and Thranduil piece, "Torn Asunder," which was inspired by something in this update that you'll see later on. It also features a few other characters, one of which being Aearion from this story! So, if you're an Oropher and/or Thranduil fan, go swing by and see what you think! And now, here's the last update! It might not exactly be what you think ;) Lol, enjoy!

Elvish:

_ernil-nín_- my prince  
><em>penneth<em>- young one  
><em>ion-nín<em>- my son  
><em>ada<em>- father  
><em>mellon-nín<em>- my friend  
><em>hannon le<em>- thank you  
><em>muinthel<em>- sister  
><em>muindor<em>- brother

_Epilogue_

"It was once used as a military outpost for our guards. One night, they were ambushed. A violent struggle broke out, costing many lives. The guards finally took their attackers captive and tortured them."

Thranduil paused for effect, a slight smile appearing on his face when he saw his rich, tenor voice had captured the attention of the Elflings listening to him intently. "Then one night, the prisoners escaped," he continued, causing a couple of the children in the front row to jump slightly. "They slaughtered the guards in their sleep and fled, never to be seen again. No one knows what attacked the guards at Amon Sereg, though the stories say the spirits of all those killed there still linger behind, seeking revenge for their unjust deaths."

A stunned silence followed his story. Then, a young boy near the back boldly cleared his throat. "That is just a tale, is it not, _ernil-nín_?" he asked.

The prince of Greenwood shrugged a bit. "I believed that once," he answered. "Until I ventured there myself to see if it was true when I was your age."

The group of Elflings collectively leaned closer to him. "What happened?" one of the girls wondered.

"Is it cursed?" another added. "Did you see a spirit?"

Thranduil smirked. "All I am able to tell you is I saw a figure in black," he addressed the entire group. "One moment, it was there. The next, it was gone."

The Elflings all gasped.

"Amon Sereg is a dangerous place," Thranduil concluded, reflecting on his own experiences at the alleged cursed hill. "I was fortunate to have escaped." He scanned the young Elves' captivated faces, nodding slightly. "Run along now. Play safely."

Thranduil chuckled as the children thanked him for the story before they hurried off to play, rising off the rock he had been sitting on in the gardens. By what he could tell from their reactions, the story had accomplished what he had wanted it to. He ensured his sword was secure in its place on his hip, still having not grown accustomed to the feel of it, as he walked along the path, almost unable to believe how much had changed since he had journeyed to Amon Sereg. The outpost was now guarded at all times to ensure what had happened to him was not repeated, though he doubted it would be.

A small smile graced his fair features as he thought about the figure in black he had added to the story every time he had told it since the incident. Thranduil had long since figured out that it truly had been his father he saw that night on the ledge and not some spirit, but it was a suitable touch to the tale nonetheless. He chuckled quietly to himself, remembering when he had approached Oropher for the second time with the matter.

_"It _was_ you that night!"_

_Oropher looked up from the paperwork he was filling out, surprise crossing his fair features as his son hurriedly approached his desk. "What do you speak of, _penneth_?" he wondered. Normally, he would have been slightly more irritated at the intrusion, but the Elfling's abrupt appearance was a welcome reprieve from that season's financial report._

_Thranduil crossed his arms confidently as he met the king's eyes. "At Amon Sereg," he explained with a smile. "The black-cloaked figure was you."_

_A moment passed before Oropher chuckled, shaking his head slightly as he lowered his gaze back to the paper before him. It had been two years since that fateful night, and this was the first time his son had come to him with this accusation. That it was still on his mind surprised him. "Now is not the time to discuss this, Thranduil," he told him as he continued to write._

_However, the prince was not dissuaded as he leaned forward on the desk, watching as Oropher's hand paused before he raised his eyes from the parchment to meet his determined ones. "Amon Sereg is truly not cursed at all, is it?" he pressed. "The figure I saw _had _to be you."_

_Oropher sighed, setting his quill aside before he leaned forward on his desk as well until his and Thranduil's faces were not far apart. Two pairs of light, intent eyes met, neither relenting as they willed the other to bend. This continued for a few long moments before the king finally smirked._

_"I must finish this report before the lunch hour, _ion-nín_," he said quietly._

_Thranduil sighed, his shoulders noticeably slumping. "But, _Ada_..." However, his protest trailed off when Oropher raised a challenging eyebrow. "All right."_

_Oropher smiled, sitting back in his chair as he picked up his quill once more and continued to write. Thranduil lingered in front of his desk and watched his father carefully until the king stopped and raised his gaze from the report once more. "Aye, _ion-nín_?"_

_"I know it was you," Thranduil muttered, a triumphant gleam in his eye as he turned on his heel and headed for the door of the study. A smile appeared on his face when he heard Oropher chuckling quietly from behind him before he stepped out into the hallway, shutting the door behind him._

Thranduil's smile lingered as he shook his head slightly. Though his father had never admitted that it truly had been him he had seen on the ledge at Amon Sereg, it was Oropher's lack of denial that had him convinced it had not been some spirit.

"Reminds you of when we were that age, does it not?"

Thranduil stopped and glanced to his right, his smile broadening when he saw Helinniel was sitting on a bench near a patch of white wildflowers. Her light eyes moved to the empty spot beside her, and the prince covered the space between them in a few strides before he sat on the bench as well.

"It does," he said with a quiet laugh. "Hopefully this will dissuade any Elflings from venturing to that outpost." He paused for a moment. "I still do not believe we went there. It was so foolish."

Helinniel leaned toward him a little. "It may have been fortunate we did," she muttered thoughtfully. "If we had not, those Dwarves would not have been apprehended."

Thranduil met her gaze before nodding once in agreement. He had not told anyone, even his closest friends, the true intentions Galin, Throri, Drorin, and Dworin had for him that night. He did not tell him his father's history with them. "Aye," he said quietly, lowering his gaze from hers to his folded hands.

Concerned, Helinniel reached forward and lightly set her hand on his arm. "Are you all right?" she asked. "Your face is a bit pale."

A slight smirk appeared on Thranduil's face. "You truly are learning from your mother," he muttered, evading the question. His friend had been studying the healing arts under Beriana while her brother, Erynion, was with him and Calanon in weapon training.

Helinniel lightly hit the prince's arm, causing him to laugh, before she brushed some loose strands of her fair hair behind her ear, a smile gracing her features as well. "Am I not allowed to be concerned for you, _mellon-nín_?"

Thranduil chuckled before glancing back at the wildflowers behind them. He gently took one before holding it out to her. "I meant no offense," he told her sincerely.

"_Hannon le_." Helinniel's smile broadened at the playful banter before she took the white flower from him. When Thranduil looked away again, she could not help but gaze at him curiously. She had known him nearly her entire life, but the sword he wore on his hip was still foreign to her, as was the simple silver circlet he now nearly always wore. She was not accustomed to Thranduil, prince of Greenwood. She was familiar with simply Thranduil.

Then, approaching footsteps caused them both to look up as they watched Erynion and Calanon appear from between the trees. "_Ada_ has called us for training," the latter announced, slowly drawing his sword.

Thranduil grinned, briefly glancing at Helinniel. "We will have to continue this another time," he said before he rose to his feet, quickly drawing his own blade to meet his friend's.

Helinniel shook her head as a slight smile appeared on her face while she watched them continue to exchange sword hits. "Be careful," she warned when Calanon's blade nearly swiped Thranduil's cheek as he avoided the weapon.

"Peace, _muinthel_." Erynion smiled at his younger sister as the other two Elves continued to spar. "'Tis all in fun."

"Aye, until someone is injured," Helinniel muttered, crossing her arms. "You take care also, _muindor_."

Erynion nodded once. "Always, Helinniel."

Thranduil and Calanon soon stopped their sword practice, both grinning as they sheathed their blades as the latter turned and began to walk in the direction of the training grounds. The prince started to follow but paused, glancing over his shoulder to ensure Erynion was coming. His light eyes then met Helinniel's, and he smiled slightly before he continued after Calanon. Erynion noticed the silent exchange, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he briefly looked at his sister before he followed the other Elves.

Helinniel sighed as she slowly rose to her feet, watching their retreating backs until they were out of sight. She missed the days when the four of them were young, not having a single care as they played together until the sun set. Those days were almost gone, for soon, her friends and brother would earn their plaits as they became true warriors of Greenwood while she followed her mother's instruction to become a healer. They would soon have to face their separate paths. She only hoped they would not be disconnected completely. Helinniel then moved her light gaze down to the flower she still delicately held in her hand given to her by the prince, and a small smile appeared on her face.

She still may not have been too familiar with the warrior Thranduil was becoming, but she knew he was someone she could grow accustomed to.

* * *

><p>Oropher stood at the top of the steps that led up to the palace doors with his arms crossed over his chest, his light eyes on his son, Calanon, and Erynion as they laughed while they made their way to the training grounds where Thalion held their sessions. A slight smile graced his fair features, remembering back to when Thranduil had first begun his training, an occurrence that had made him both proud and disheartened. The days of innocence for the high-spirited Elfling who had used to command his attention were nearly gone. Thranduil was maturing into a warrior, the prince of Greenwood, he could not deny that.<p>

He glanced behind him when he heard light footsteps, nodding once to acknowledge Aearion when he stopped beside him. "He is continuing his training this day, I see," the advisor said, a proud smile on his face as well while he shook his head slightly. "Astounding how time passes."

"Indeed," Oropher agreed, moving his light eyes back to Thranduil in time to watch him and his friends disappear from sight.

Aearion moved his gaze to the king, and his eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you all right, Oropher?" he wondered. It had not escaped his notice that his friend had been quieter as of late, and he suspected it involved Thranduil's training.

Oropher took a long moment to respond, carefully deliberating his answer. It was difficult for him to watch his son developing into an able warrior with his own sword that had been forged for him at his side. He often found himself missing his small child coming to him for the most trivial of reasons, no matter what the hour. But he remembered when he had first begun his training as well, knowing how hard it had been for his father to watch him do the same, but also the pride it had given him. A slight smile appeared on his face. There was no doubt he was proud of Thranduil as he watched him now.

"Aye," the king finally muttered, smiling at Aearion. "I am more than all right."

Aearion nodded as his smile broadened, though it was bittersweet. "He will be just fine, Oropher," he attempted to assure him.

Oropher nodded once as well, his smile faltering slightly. "I know," he said, mainly to himself. "He is my son." Then, he cleared his throat as he turned to make his way back into the palace. He could not hold Thranduil's hand and guide him through his training. It was something he had to discover on his own, and the king had to trust he would be all right. "Come, Aearion. I believe there are some trade agreements that must be seen to."

**The End**

**Ending Author's Note**: I know what you're thinking. Tori left you all with unanswered questions, right? Such as why Oropher was delayed that night he promised his aid to Galin. It's not missing because it's not an important detail. On the contrary, it's very important! So, why was it left out, you ask? Because it is not crucial for Thranduil to know in this current point in the timeline. Or, in other words, it was intentional. Why? No, I'm not one of those evil authors who doesn't answer all the questions, lol. The real reason is because this is only part one. Check out part two, "Riptide," to see what other trouble I get Oropher and Thranduil into. *innocent smile* With school, I can't promise the most rapid of updates, but it'll be out as soon as it's ready! Until then, here's a bit of a sneak peek. Enjoy!

_"_Ada_, help!"_

_Oropher quickly looked up when he heard the young, familiar voice, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at the darkness around him. But from what he saw in the faint light coming from the dying fire at his feet, he was alone on the rocky cliff. He strained his ears for the voice again, but all he heard was the raging rapids of the Duilwen._

_"Thranduil!" he called, dread filling his heart. "_Ion-nín!_"_

_"_Ada!_"_

_Oropher quickly turned around when the fearful voice came from behind him now, and his eyes widened slightly with worry when he saw Thranduil standing at the edge of the cliff, clear panic in his youthful features. The prince then anxiously reached a hand out toward his father._

_"Help, _Ada!_" he repeated._

_"Hold on, Thranduil!" Oropher hurried toward the Elfling, reaching his hand out as well. His heart sped up a little when his fingers brushed against his son's, but then it nearly stopped when they slipped out of his hold as he began to fall._

_"No!" Oropher watched in horror as Thranduil plummeted into the darkness below, his panicked scream being swallowed by the nearly overwhelming sound of the rapids. He tried to go after him, to save his son from the darkness that threatened to claim him, but his limbs refused to work properly. He was unable to move as the roar of the river grew to a deafening level, engulfing him completely._

_"Thranduil!"_

Oropher gasped as he quickly sat up on his bed, anxiously looking around the dark room before sighing and closing his eyes as he ran a hand over his sweat-drenched face. It had been years since that night at Amon Sereg when Galin, who he had at one time believed he would never see again, had leapt off the cliff into the Duilwen River with Thranduil. The king leaned forward and put his head into his hands, his loose, fair hair spilling over his shoulders. He could still clearly see the image of his son's lifeless form and pale face, his lips tinted blue, even after all this time. He had been so close to losing him that night.

Must it still haunt him now?


End file.
